


Drowning

by Wonko



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, F/F, ancient story that's probably not very good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-23 05:09:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 42,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13183026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonko/pseuds/Wonko
Summary: Sara tries to deal with her drinking and her feelings of rejection by Grissom while working a harrowing case with Catherine.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story from 2004 that I'm polishing up to repost. It references Sara's implied alcohol abuse from the episode Early Rollout (I think that was never mentioned on the show again.)

Sara woke up feeling groggy and more tired than she'd been before she went to bed. Her head felt like lead and seemed to be vehemently opposed to rising from the pillow. She cracked one eye open and immediately regretted it when she was assaulted by migraine inducing sunlight. She had forgotten to draw the curtains before she'd fallen asleep and now the late afternoon sun was shining on her face at just the wrong angle. She groaned and bit back a wave of nausea.

Drinking alone and drinking during the day. The two things her mother had warned her about the day she turned twenty-one (as if she hadn't been drinking since she was sixteen anyway.) 'If you find yourself doing either of those things, Sara,' her mother had said. 'You know you've got a problem.' So what did it mean when you started doing both?

It had started so innocently. Not long after the lab explosion she had asked Grissom out to dinner and he'd said no. Not just 'no'. More like 'no, and why the hell would you think I wanted to?' She'd come home and been completely unable to sleep - feeling inadequate, rejected and painfully embarrassed. It hadn't seemed like such a big deal when she'd cracked open a bottle of beer (expensive, imported German stuff.) And the next day when she'd been struck by insomnia again it seemed natural to crack open another and drink herself into a pleasant buzz until she was able to doze off.

But then... 

The beer started to get cheaper and it took more than one or two before she fell asleep. She found herself wishing for the end of each shift so she could get home and settle into quiet oblivion for a few hours. Seeing Grissom every day at work was like a constant ache which only alcohol could dull. Not because she was pining after him exactly - her feelings were more than a little mixed on that topic - but because of the cringing humiliation of it all. Then there were the cases - the victims they always arrived too late for, the perps they couldn’t nail. Eventually beer wasn't enough. Whisky, vodka, rum, bourbon, gin. Whatever was on sale at the liquor store that week. No need to bother with mixers - it was anaesthesia she wanted, and the purer the better.

When it got to the stage that the alcohol was still on her breath when she went to work she started buying cough drops like they were candy. She thought she was being so clever - the medicinal smell would disguise any remaining alcohol and pretending to be sick would give her an excuse to be woozy. Brass saw through her like she was transparent. The night he had his little chat with her she dumped the cough drops and switched to cigarettes. Four and a half years of being a non-smoker went out the window with her first Camel. The cigarettes helped her to relax just like the booze did and the smell of smoke that followed her everywhere covered the alcohol. Her apartment had started to resemble a sleazy bar with bottles and cigarette butts occupying every free surface.

"I am  _ so _ fucked," Sara whispered to herself bitterly. She forced herself up onto her hands and knees and looked around blearily. So, she'd made it to the bed this time. She'd lost count of the times she'd woken up sprawled over the sofa or the floor - she'd even found herself in the bathroom once. Last night's clothes felt slightly damp against her skin. Her body, in protest of the treatment it had been receiving lately, had obviously tried to sweat out some of the toxins she'd been pumping into it. An empty vodka bottle lay discarded on the bedside cabinet.

The blinking of her alarm clock display told her she had to be back at work in just over an hour. She dragged herself out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. Her reflection shot an accusatory glare at her as she stared into her own bloodshot eyes. "What are you looking at?" she muttered, pulling her clothes off and climbing into the shower.

Thirty minutes later Sara pulled a CSI baseball cap over her still damp hair and grabbed her jacket, cigarettes and car keys from the table by the front door. She hesitated as her fingers closed over the keys.

Forensics 101 - alcohol is absorbed by the body at a steady rate. If you take the amount of alcohol that has been consumed you can predict with a fair amount of accuracy how soon it will leave the system. Sara's mind was slightly dulled thanks to that bottle of vodka but she was still a scientist and she knew she was over the limit. She didn't  _ feel _ drunk but that wouldn't matter if she was pulled over. Her job was at risk if she got herself in trouble with the cops. And besides - Sara loathed and despised drunk drivers. In her opinion, driving a car when drunk was just as bad as picking up a gun and firing randomly into a crowd. Even if you didn't hit anyone, it was still a fucking crazy thing to do. And she wasn't that far gone.

Not yet.

Sara dropped the keys and grabbed the phone instead, trying to remember the number of her local cab company. It was Friday night and the wait was going to be at least twenty minutes. She didn't use the company often enough for them to put a rush on it for her so she thanked the girl on the other end of the phone and hung up. She drew in a shaky breath and dialled her last resort.

"Catherine? Hey, it's Sara." She straightened her cap and pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she spoke. "Have you by any chance passed my apartment yet? Yeah, my car won't start and I really need a ride." A flicker of a smile ghosted over her lips. "Thanks, Cath," she said. "I'll be waiting downstairs." She hung up and grabbed her stuff again. Catherine had been about two minutes away from her place when she called so she knew she wouldn't have long to wait. She lit a Camel as she walked down the stairs.

The cigarette was burning dangerously close to her fingers when Catherine drew up beside her and she flicked the butt away carelessly. Catherine waved a hand in front of her face as Sara climbed in to the passenger seat of the Tahoe. "Jesus, Sara, are you still smoking those filthy things?"

"You're just pissed they're not your brand," Sara teased gently.

"I'll have you know I haven't had a cancer stick in five years and I'm not planning on changing that," Catherine replied as she reached to change gears. The gearbox grated in protest as she fluffed it yet again. Sara winced.

"You should get an automatic," she said. "Stick-shifts don't like you."

Catherine shot her a glare. "So, what's up with your car?" she asked. Sara frowned briefly then remembered that had been her excuse.

"Oh, uh, I dunno, I'll have to get AAA to tow it to a garage when I get off."

"I thought you were good with cars?" Catherine said. "Can't you have a look yourself?"

"I suppose I could, but my AAA membership cost fifty bucks and I haven't got anything out of it yet," Sara replied with a smirk. Catherine let out a small laugh and they spent the remainder of the journey to CSI headquarters in silence.

They pulled up outside the building at the same time as Nick. Catherine waved at him brightly. Sara's greeting was slightly more subdued. Things had been slightly tense between her and Nick since she had found herself passed over for promotion in his favour. She knew the promotion had hinged on Grissom's recommendation. So, not only had he rejected her personally he had rejected her professionally too. Sara wasn't good with people but she'd always consoled herself by knowing she was damn good at her job. Apparently Grissom didn't agree. It was hard not to take something like that to heart.

The three CSIs entered the break room together and were greeted by a smiling Greg Sanders. "Evening Nick," he said. "Ladies." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"What are you doing here and where's Grissom?" Sara asked. She wasn't in the mood for Greg. Her head hadn't stopped thumping yet and every word was like a physical assault.

"Someone got out of the wrong side of bed," Nick remarked as he poured himself a coffee.

"More like fell out," Catherine added, looking Sara up and down. A flush rose to Sara's cheeks and she suddenly felt very exposed under Catherine's stare. Catherine noticed her discomfort and gentled her tone. "Rough day?"

Sara looked away and cleared her throat. "I just want to get my assignment," she said, avoiding the question.

"Well, to answer your questions," Greg said as he stood up. "I'm here because Grissom wants me to work a robbery with Nick." Nick swallowed his coffee a little too quickly and started coughing. Greg ignored him. "And Grissom is with a DB at a house in Henderson. He told me to send you two over there ASAP."

Sara grabbed their assignment slip from Greg then turned and left without a word of thanks leaving the other three looking at each other with slightly baffled expressions. "God, she's been such a pain in the ass recently," Nick said, taking a final gulp of coffee. "Good luck," he said to Catherine. "I think you'll need it working with her all night."

Catherine smiled and slapped Nick on the back good-naturedly. "Same to you," she said, nodding her head towards Greg. She laughed at Greg's mock offended look and waved as she left the room. "Later guys."

* * * * *

She found Sara outside by the Tahoe with her kit slung over her shoulder. Three cigarette butts lay by her feet. Catherine raised her eyebrows at that and Sara defiantly ignored her. "You ready?" Sara said shortly.

"Yeah," Catherine replied. Sara nodded curtly and started to turn towards the passenger side door. Catherine pinned her in place with a look. "Okay," she said coldly. "Who pissed in your cheerios this morning?" Sara started to shake her head but Catherine wasn't about to be deterred easily. "You're in a foul mood," she said. "And you can take it out on Greg as much as you like but I'd appreciate it if you at least tried to show me some respect."

Sara's expression turned stony. "Are you finished? Cause I want to get some work done."

Catherine threw her hands in the air and shook her head. "You know Sara, if you're trying to alienate your friends you're doing a bang up job," she said as she walked round to the other side of the Tahoe and jerked open the driver's door.

Sara waited until Catherine had slammed the door closed before she replied: "Can't alienate what you don't have." Then she opened the passenger door and let a tense silence surround them until they reached the crime scene.

Brass greeted them as they climbed out of the truck. "Evening Catherine," he said. He looked pointedly at Sara. "Sara."

"Hey," Sara replied, not meeting his eyes.

"Where's Grissom?" asked Catherine.

Brass pointed up to the second floor of the house. "In the bathroom with the vic. And I'm warning you - this one ain't pretty."

Catherine smiled. "Don't worry Jim, I've got a strong stomach."

Sara started walking towards the house leaving Brass and Catherine alone. Catherine sighed dramatically. "She's starting to seriously piss me off," she said.

Brass looked over his shoulder at Sara's retreating form. "Go easy on her," he said softly.

Catherine frowned but Jim didn't elaborate. "Oookay," she said and shouldered her kit. "I'd better go and earn my tiny paycheck." With a final smile for Brass she followed Sara, catching up to her just as she reached the bathroom door.

Sara felt a wave of nausea hit her and she was suddenly glad she hadn't had time to eat before she came in. The vic was female, probably in her mid twenties, but there was too much blood to see any distinguishing characteristics. She was naked and hanging upside down over the bathtub, suspended from the shower rail with a nylon rope. Her throat, wrists and ankles had been slit and blood had poured from these wounds over her body and down the drain. Her hands were bound together and she had what looked like an apple stuffed in her mouth. Her lifeless eyes stared glassily at nothing.

Catherine reached out and grabbed Sara's arm to steady herself, taking back everything she had ever said about having a strong stomach. "This is fucking sick," she muttered. Sara looked down at Catherine's hand which was still grasping her arm. She frowned as she realised that she couldn't remember the last time someone had reached out and touched her. Catherine was a tactile person but her playful little slaps on the back and comforting shoulder squeezes were reserved for the guys. Had Catherine ever touched her like this before? Sara didn't know and suddenly the idea upset her.

Catherine saw where Sara was looking and bashfully removed her hand. "Sorry," she said with a small smile. Sara continued to stare at the place Catherine's hand had been for a second longer and then looked up sharply.

"It's okay," she said.

Catherine opened her mouth to reply but Grissom interrupted before she could. "Oh, you're here," he said. Catherine and Sara turned towards him simultaneously. Neither of them had noticed him before - a dead body in the room had a tendency to grab your attention to the exclusion of all else, especially when it was so gruesome.

"Hey Gris," Catherine said. She placed her kit on the floor. "Where do you want us?"

Grissom met Sara's eyes briefly before looking back over to Catherine. "You can stay here and help me process this room," he said. "Sara, I want you to do a walkaround of the perimeter. Keep an eye out for her clothes - they're missing. And the victim's girlfriend says there were no signs of forced entry but we have to be sure."

"The victim's girlfriend?" Catherine asked with a cock of her head.

Sara rolled her eyes. "You know, Catherine, lesbians aren't mythical beasts. You will actually come across them sometimes." Her tone was dripping with sarcasm. 

Catherine flushed lightly. "That's not what I meant," she said defensively.

Sara grabbed her kit and turned to walk out. In the doorway she stopped and looked back at Catherine. "Then what did you mean?" she asked but didn't wait around for an answer.

Catherine sighed as she snapped on a set of latex gloves. "Great, now I look like a homophobe," she muttered.

Grissom was enthralled in his study of the body and didn't say anything.

Sara was glad for the solitude the walkaround allowed her. The last thing she wanted was to be working with Grissom. If she had to be on a case with him she was at least grateful for this short time alone.

She went round the house twice and didn't spot anything suspicious. On her third pass something caught her eye in front of the living room window. Frowning, she squatted down and took a closer look. It was a cigarette butt. Correction - a ton of cigarette butts. Sara felt herself go slightly cold as she realised that she'd walked past this blatant evidence twice and hadn't spotted it. She got out her tweezers and bagged each butt individually, trying not to castigate herself too much.

When she'd finished she wandered back to the front of the house and dusted the door knocker. The prints she found were too jumbled and smeared to be useful but she lifted them anyway. Jacqui in the print lab was good. If anyone was able to get a match from this it was her.

Brass approached her from behind and coughed slightly to get her attention. "Anything good?" he asked.

"Found some cigarette butts by the living room window," Sara replied. "Could indicate that someone spent a lot of time watching the house. No signs of forced entry so I'm guessing she let him in. Door knocker prints aren't great though." Sara turned towards him with a slight frown. "What's the vic's name by the way?"

"Marianne Roberts," he said. "She was a waitress at some diner downtown."

Sara raised an eyebrow. "Pretty nice house for a waitress," she said.

"The girlfriend's a lawyer." Brass pointed at a blonde woman who was standing by a patrol car with her arms wrapped around her torso, looking completely lost. "Her name's Emily Porter."

Sara nodded thoughtfully. "Guess I'll go talk to her," she said. She patted Brass on the shoulder as she passed him.

"Sara?" he said, stopping her. She looked back expectantly.

"Cigarettes instead of cough drops?"

Sara's lips hardened into a straight line as she turned her back on him and made her way towards Emily Porter.

"Emily?" Sara asked gently as she approached the blonde. She looked up at Sara with red rimmed eyes.

"Yes?" she said.

"My name's Sara Sidle, I'm with the Crime Lab," Sara replied, flashing her ID briefly. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

Emily nodded briefly. "You're the first person who's acknowledged I've had one," she said bitterly. "These cops are treating me like my pet dog just died, not the woman I love." She bit back a sob. "Loved..."

Emily sank down to the curb and pulled her legs up to her chest. Sara sat down next to her and put a hesitant arm round her shaking shoulders. "You don't need to stop loving her just because she's gone," she said gently. A silence stretched between them, punctuated occasionally by Emily Porter's muted sobs. "I know this is the worst possible time to be asking questions," Sara continued awkwardly. "But there are some things we need to know."

Emily turned to her with tear filled eyes. "You got a cigarette?" she asked.

Sara produced a pack of unfiltered Camels and offered one to the other woman. "You a big smoker?" she asked, thinking of the cigarette butts she'd spent twenty minutes carefully bagging. Emily let out a short laugh.

"Can't stand the things," she said as Sara lit the cigarette for her. She coughed uncontrollably on her first drag. "Marianne smokes...smoked. I always made her do it out of the window though - I didn't want the smell to get everywhere."

Sara sighed inwardly. That explained the butts outside the window. She lit up a Camel of her own and took a deep, satisfying drag. They smoked in silence for a couple of minutes and then Sara turned to the other woman.

"How long were you and Marianne together?" she asked gently.

Emily threw the cigarette down to the pavement. "Tomorrow is our four year anniversary," she said. Sara closed her eyes briefly and put her arm round Emily again, sensing she was about to fall apart.

"We’ll find whoever did this to her," Sara said seriously. "I promise."

Emily seemed to shrink before her eyes. "Don't make promises you can't keep," she said. "I'm a lawyer, I know how the system works. It's not about guilt or innocence. It's about who can afford the best attorney."

"The best lawyer in the world can't refute forensic evidence," Sara maintained. "Two of the best CSIs in the country are with Marianne right now listening to the story she's trying to tell us. That story will lead us to her killer. Trust me."

Emily drew in a shaky breath and nodded slightly. "You're right," she said. "I have to have faith in justice."

"I've devoted my life to it," Sara said with a small smile. "It's never steered me wrong."

Emily nodded and seemed to gather herself. "You wanted to ask some questions?"

Sara withdrew her arm from Emily's shoulders and pulled out her notebook. "Yeah," she said, feeling a professional wall go up between them. "What's the name of the diner that Marianne worked at?"

"It's just called Betty's," Emily replied and gave her the address. "It's near my firm's offices - that's where we met." Sara shot her a look of sympathy as her voice wavered.

"Did she ever talk about problems at work? Colleagues, management, customers?"

"No, I don't think so.” She paused, frowning. “No...wait..." Sara looked up from her notebook. "She mentioned something about a guy who'd been bugging her. Andy something. One of those guys who doesn't know what no means."

Sara raised an eyebrow. "He asked her out?"

"Every single day," Emily replied. "He'd been doing it for weeks but she didn't mention it till a couple days ago."

"Did she..." Sara trailed off, trying to think of a delicate way to phrase this. "Did she seem like she was scared of him?"

Emily shook her head. "She was just annoyed."

Sara nodded. "Okay," she said gently. "Is there anyone else she mentioned? Anyone who might have had a grudge against her?"

Emily shook her head again. "Everyone loves Marianne," she said, then paled. "I mean-"

"It's okay," Sara reassured her hastily. "It's okay." She produced a card from her pocket and pressed it into Emily's hand. "If you think of anything at all - even if it doesn't seem important - call me. Day or night."

Emily nodded and Sara gave her a final pat on the shoulder as she stood up. She walked over to a uniformed cop. "Hey, uh, Officer..."

"Ramsey," he finished for her.

"Ramsey," she repeated and smiled slightly. "Could you sit with Ms. Porter for a while please? We'll need to get a set of prints from her for elimination before she leaves, but I think she needs a few minutes before we do that. Either I or one of my colleagues will be back to collect her prints in a little while."

Ramsey nodded. "Sure thing, ma'am," he said. Sara grabbed his arm as he passed her.

"You married, Ramsey?" she said. He frowned.

"Yeah," he said uncertainly.

Sara nodded once. "Imagine you came home and found your wife murdered," she said, watching him pale. "That's how she feels. So treat her like it, okay?"

Ramsey nodded and Sara let him go. Confident that Emily was in safe hands she went back into the house. She leaned against a wall and breathed deeply, thinking about Emily and Marianne and the love that had so obviously lived in this house until a few short hours ago when someone had come in and brutally destroyed it. Her heart ached. It just wasn't fair. These two women had found love together, and managed to keep it which was something altogether more difficult. Sara felt a sudden flash of boiling hatred for the faceless figure who had committed this crime and deprived the woman outside of all the years that should have been shared with Marianne. She wanted to catch this guy. Badly.

God, she wanted a drink.

Shaking herself she climbed the stairs and hovered in the bathroom doorway. "Got anything good?" she asked. Catherine looked up.

"Couple of fingerprints, a shoe print, a few dark hairs. Since both the women who lived here are blondes, I'm hopeful about those. You?"

"Nada," Sara sighed. "No forced entry. I found a pile of cigarette butts by the living room window but Emily confirmed they were Marianne's."

"Emily? The girlfriend?"

Sara nodded. "I talked to her. Apparently Marianne was being hassled by a customer at work. You know, one of those 'no means yes' guys?"

Catherine nodded with a rueful grin and Sara realised she'd probably known a few of those guys in her dancing days. Sara shrugged and turned to Grissom. "So, I'm done outside. You need me for anything?"

"No, nothing," Grissom answered without thinking or even looking at her. Sara stared at him. Even Catherine stopped working and looked at Grissom like he'd just sprouted a second head. 

Sara let out a bitter laugh. "No, I guess you really don't," she said. Grissom looked up at her with a frown but she had turned her attention to Catherine. "If you give me the car keys I'll take the evidence back to the lab and see if I can get a rush put on it." Catherine handed her the keys, letting their fingers brush together gently. She met Sara's eyes and tried to apologise for Grissom without words. Sara's lips curled upwards slightly in response and then she was gone. Catherine listened to her footsteps disappearing down the stairs before she turned to Grissom.

"You can be so dense sometimes, you know that?" she said harshly.

Gil looked pained. "What did I do?"

Catherine shook her head in disgust. "You know what? When you finally come to your senses, I hope she shoots you down. You deserve it."

* * * * *

Sara grasped the steering wheel with shaky hands and tried desperately to keep from crying. Grissom was just so damn insensitive at times it made her wonder what she’d ever seen in him. She managed a small smile when she remembered Catherine's reaction to Grissom's clueless response. At least she wasn't completely invisible - someone had noticed her, even if it wasn't the person she’d expected.

Straightening her shoulders, she put the keys in the ignition and sent out a silent prayer that the drive back to the lab would be uneventful. She had the feeling she'd still fail a breath test if it came to that but she couldn't go back now.

The drive back to CSI was blessedly quiet and Sara breathed a sigh of relief as she drew into the parking lot. Grabbing the evidence bag, she made her way first to the print lab where she dropped off the prints both she and Catherine had collected, and the set she had collected from Emily on her way out. Then she headed over to the DNA lab where she was surprised to see Greg.

"Hey, Greggo," she said with a smile, letting him know she was sorry for her earlier abrasiveness. "What are you doing here? Your hot case cool down?"

Greg shrugged. "It was easy. The perp left his fingerprints everywhere. It was no fun."

"That's the life of a CSI," she replied. "We get flashes of interesting stuff but it's ninety-five percent routine."

"I bet your case isn't routine..." Greg mumbled as he took the hair samples she was holding out to him. Sara cocked her head in agreement.

"Actually you're right, this one's pretty gruesome. You should be glad you didn't see it." Greg shot her a look. "I'm serious. You'll need to toughen up a hell of a lot more before you do something like this."

Greg frowned as he pulled one of the hairs out of its bag with tweezers. "You know I'm only a few years younger than you," he said. "I'm not a baby."

Sara put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey," she soothed. "That's not what I meant."

"Sure," he scoffed. "I know what you all think of me."

"Then you must know you're the best DNA tech this lab's ever had and you're becoming a damn good CSI," she replied.

Greg looked up at her. "Really?"

"I don't say anything I don't mean," Sara said. Greg smiled slowly and ducked his head. "Now, how's about you tell me if you can get any DNA out of these hairs?"

"They're promising," Greg said and flashed a grin at her. His eyes flitted to the pager at her hip as it let out an all too familiar shrill whine. Sara squinted as she looked down to read it. It said: 'Join us for the autopsy - G.'

"I've gotta go," she said. "Page me as soon as you get a result."

Ten minutes later, attired in scrubs and latex gloves, Sara walked into the autopsy room to find Robbins, Grissom and Catherine standing around the slab containing the body of Marianne Roberts.

"Hey, Sara," Catherine greeted her.

"Hey. I miss anything?"

Robbins shook his head. "Not really. The cuts to her throat, wrists and ankles were done post-mortem."

"That would explain the lack of spatter in the bathroom," Sara remarked. "Cause of death?"

Grissom gestured to her face where Sara could just about see a dark bruise covering her mouth. It would be more obvious once she was cleaned up and no longer covered in dried blood.

"Suffocation?" Sara queried and received a chorus of nods in return.

"Looks like she was held down with a hand over her nose and mouth," Catherine said. "And then, for whatever reason, the killer took her into the bathroom, hung her upside down and had a little bloodletting."

Sara shook her head in disgust and looked away briefly. "What's the significance of the apple?" she asked, though she had the feeling she didn't really want to know.

Grissom raised an eyebrow. "You might put an apple in a pig's mouth while it's roasting," he commented. "Perhaps this guy's trying to tell us that's how he sees her? Like she's less than human."

"I think we know who's less than human in this situation," Catherine said, her horror at the idea clearly evident in her voice. "What about the rape kit?"

"It's the first thing on my list," Robbins answered solemnly.

Sara shook herself. "She's bound to have struggled," she said. "Have we checked under her nails?"

Grissom held up a specimen box. "I was just about to take this to DNA. Why don't you two go to her workplace and see what you can find out about this guy who was supposedly harassing her?"

Sara nodded and pulled off her gloves with a snap. Catherine followed suit and reached out to touch Sara's arm when Grissom had left the room. "You okay?" she asked gently.

"Huh? Of course I am, why do you ask?" Sara frowned.

Catherine nodded pointedly at Sara's hands. "Your hands are shaking," she said softly.

Sara looked down at her hands in shock, trying to will them to be still. They weren't co-operating. "It's nothing," she muttered. "I haven't eaten since before work last night." The excuse fell easily off her lips and she deliberately steered her thoughts away from the empty bottle of vodka by her bed.

Catherine shook her head and led Sara out of the morgue. "Honestly Sara," she said indulgently. "I'll buy you something at Joey's on our way to the vic's workplace."

"I'm all right," Sara protested but Catherine cut her off.

"Are you hell," she said. "I'm going to buy you a huge plateful of the greasiest food they have and personally stand over you till you've eaten it. No arguments."

Sara felt slightly nauseous at the thought of food but knew better than to argue with Catherine. She just hoped she could choke it down without throwing up.

* * * * *

Catherine presented her with a plate of eggs, mushrooms, tomatoes, toast and hash browns and looked at her expectantly.

"You not eating?" Sara asked, playing with her fork.

"I am but the carnivore meal takes longer to make," she replied with a smile. A moment or two passed in silence before Catherine sighed. "Do I have to feed you?" she asked.

Sara set her jaw and deliberately chewed on a slice of toast. Catherine seemed satisfied for the moment and left to collect her own plate. She returned momentarily with a loaded plate almost identical to Sara's except with bacon and sausage substituted for the tomatoes and mushrooms.

"Do you know how they make sausage?" Sara asked conversationally, smiling a little as Catherine shot her a glare.

"No, and I don't want to," she said pointedly. She turned her attention to her plate and began to wolf her food in a manner that made Sara believe this little detour had been as much for Catherine's benefit as hers. Sara for her part had realised how hungry she was as soon as she started chewing and so was content to let the silence last as long as the food.

Catherine ordered coffee when they were finished. She leaned back in her seat as she took her first sip, regarding Sara contemplatively. "I'm sorry I went off on you earlier," she said softly. 

Sara shrugged. "No big deal. It was mostly my fault."

"Maybe," Catherine smiled slowly. "But I should have been more sensitive. I mean, it's obvious you've been having a rough time lately."

Sara felt heat rising to her cheeks. "I'm fine," she lied. Catherine sighed. She loved Grissom like a brother but there were times - like now - when she just wanted to hit him.

"Whatever you say," she conceded, in a tone that made it clear she was conceding nothing. Sara nodded and reached for her wallet. Catherine stayed her hand. "Uh uh," she said. "This is my treat."

"Cat-"

"I insist. You can pay next time."

Inwardly Sara doubted there would be a next time but she didn't argue the point. She and Catherine tended to go through phases in their, for lack of a better word, 'friendship'. 'Hot and cold' didn't quite describe it. More like 'lukewarm and cold'. The closest to warm Sara had gotten was an invitation to go and see 'The Return of the King' last Christmas with Catherine and Lindsey. It had been fun - the movie was good and they'd all gone out for ice cream afterwards. She and Catherine had laughed and joked like old friends. But immediately afterwards Catherine had started to cool to her again and relations at the moment could best be described as 'shaky'.

Catherine threw down a couple of bills to cover their tab and made for the exit. Sara followed her and climbed into the passenger seat of the Tahoe, feeling suddenly weary. "How long till the end of shift?" she said, closing her eyes.

"Seven hours," Catherine replied with a sympathetic smile. Sara groaned and then felt a hand patting her thigh. "You can go to sleep if you want," Catherine said gently. "I'll wake you when we get there."

Sara nodded and leaned her head against the window. She could feel her hands shaking again so she wrapped her arms round her torso to cover it.

Her eyes opened in surprise as she felt a soft hand tracing over her forehead, pushing her hair behind her ear. She met Catherine's concerned gaze with a frown. "Catherine?" she questioned.

Catherine smiled. "Maybe you should take the next couple days off," she suggested, her tone gentle. "I've never seen you like this."

Sara closed her eyes, imagining two cold and lonely days in her apartment with nothing but a bottle for company. Tears nipped behind her eyes. "No," she said, schooling her voice so it didn't betray that she was upset. "I think I just need a decent sleep tomorrow and I'll be fine."

For a moment there was silence and then Sara heard the growl of the engine and the protestations of the gearbox and knew that Catherine had let the matter drop. She leaned her head against the window and tried not to think.

* * * * *

The slamming of the car door jerked Sara out of her uneasy sleep and she looked around blearily. Spotting Catherine just outside the car, she slipped off her seatbelt and half fell out into the cool night air. Catherine shot out a hand to help her gain her balance. Somehow - Sara had a feeling even Catherine didn't know why she'd done it - this evolved into a loose hug. Sara was frozen for a moment and, when she finally started to bring her arms up to hug her back, Catherine was already pulling away.

"Sorry," Catherine said shortly and Sara sensed the embarrassment in her voice. Clearly she'd interpreted Sara's stupefied non-reaction as a rejection.

"Cat, it's-"

Catherine waved her hand to cut her off. "It's okay," she said. "I know you don't swing with all this touchy-feely crap. Let's just pretend I didn't just make a total fool of myself and get on with what we're supposed to be doing." She walked towards the door of Betty's Diner without waiting for a response.

Sara sighed as she followed. Of all the myths that circulated the lab about Sara, the idea that she didn't like human contact was the most widely believed, and the least true. She was actually a very tactile person when she felt safe with someone. She liked to exchange hugs with her friends, not that she'd had many of those since coming to Vegas. She liked snuggling with her lovers and lazily lying in on Sunday mornings tracing patterns over their skin. She tended to be the initiator with her boyfriends. Some of them even said she was too clingy. Her girlfriends were usually more tolerant of her touchy-feely side but those relationships didn't seem to last long either. What had just happened with Catherine was the perfect example of why. When she was caught off guard she tended to fuck up.

Catherine was already talking to the pleasant looking middle-aged woman behind the counter when she caught up with her. By the look on the woman's face Catherine had already broken the news of Marianne's death.

"Oh my God," the woman was saying, her eyes wide and disbelieving. "There must be some mistake. I just saw her a few hours ago."

"I'm sorry," Sara said gently. "It's no mistake." She stood close behind Catherine, noting with alarm how the other woman tensed at her proximity. It looked like this latest 'warm' phase had shifted firmly back to 'icy'.

The woman leaned heavily against the counter, tears pooling in her eyes. Catherine reached out and covered her hand with her own. "Maybe you should sit down," she said gently. The woman nodded dumbly and slipped round the counter to find a seat in the mostly empty diner. Sara and Catherine took seats opposite her and waited till she'd collected herself somewhat.

"I'm sorry," she said, wiping at her eyes. "It's just such a shock..."

"We understand, Mrs...?" Sara trailed off.

"Winchester," she said. "Betty Winchester."

"Betty's diner," Sara thought aloud. Betty managed a watery smile.

"That's right. This is my place."

"And Marianne worked for you," Catherine said, trying to ease into the conversation gently.

"Yes," Betty replied and choked out a sob. "I can't believe she's really gone..."

Sara produced a pack of paper handkerchiefs from her pocket and offered one to the teary older woman. Catherine raised her eyebrow and gave Sara a look that seemed to say: 'It's not like you to be so sensitive'. And Sara met her gaze with one of her own which said 'I'm not a monster, you know'. Catherine looked away, her cheeks colouring slightly.

"Seems like Marianne was well liked here," Sara said, tearing her eyes away from Catherine and attempting to return to their reason for being there.

"Oh, she was a wonderful girl," Betty enthused. "Sweet, kind, smart - and so devoted to that boyfriend of hers."

Sara and Catherine blinked in unison and turned to each other with raised eyebrows.

"Boyfriend?" Catherine said, turning back to Betty and drawing on her years of experience to hide her surprise.

"Yes...Andy something or other. He's always in here..." She trailed off. "Andy Green, that's it."

Sara shot Catherine a significant look as she turned back to Betty. "Do you know where we might find Mr Green?" she asked patiently.

Betty Winchester shook her head. "I really couldn't say," she said. "Marianne always deals with him whenever he's in. And he doesn't talk much anyhow."

Sara nodded slowly and pulled out another of her business cards. "I think that's all we need for now, Mrs. Winchester. Thank you so much for your time and please accept my condolences for your loss." Betty smiled and grasped Sara's hand.

"Thank you dear," she said. Sara gestured to her business card.

"If you think of anything that might be useful, please call me," she said. "We want to find whoever did this to Marianne quickly and put him behind bars. We appreciate any help you can give us."

Betty took the card and earnestly promised she'd call the second she thought of anything helpful. Sara asked if she'd be all right on her own and Betty told her she'd be closing and going home to her husband right away. Satisfied, Sara and Catherine returned to the parking lot and climbed into the Tahoe.

"Well, that was something of a revelation," Catherine understated.

Sara leaned heavily back in her seat. "Andy was her fake boyfriend," she said. "Maybe he didn't quite understand the arrangement."

Catherine shook her head. "I don't get it. Why have a fake boyfriend in the first place?"

"To remove suspicion," Sara answered shortly. 

Catherine raised an eyebrow. "Personal experience?"

Sara frowned. "No," she said slowly. "I've never had a fake boyfriend."

Catherine flushed. "Sorry," she muttered.

Sara's frown deepened. "What did you think?" she asked, injecting a note of steel into her voice so Catherine would answer.

Catherine looked away, wishing the Earth would open up and swallow her whole. "I just...I mean, with the way you reacted to this case and all, and how you called me on how dense I was being at the scene, I uh...well, I just thought that maybe you were...uh..."

"Gay?" Sara finished for her. "You know, Cat, just because I have compassion for Emily Porter and Marianne Roberts it doesn't mean I'm gay. Just human."

Catherine winced. "I know," she said. "I know. Fuck, I don't even know why I thought that, I mean...you're straight, everyone knows that. I mean, Grissom-"

"No, I'm not," Sara interrupted her, ignoring the reference to Grissom. Catherine turned to her with a frown.

"Huh?"

"I'm not straight," Sara said, looking into her eyes almost defiantly. 

Catherine looked pained. "But...you just said..."

"I know," Sara replied. "I'm not gay either." She watched the wheels turning in Catherine's mind for a couple of seconds. "What's behind door number three?"

Comprehension dawned slowly on Catherine's face. "Oh," she said. "Oh." Sara smirked. This was the reaction she usually got. "Why didn't you tell anyone?" Catherine asked. Sara bristled slightly.

"Should I have?" she asked archly. "Whose business is it but mine who I sleep with?"

"Well...no-one's, I guess, but wouldn't you have felt better being yourself?"

Sara looked away and let out a short laugh. "You know what pisses me off most about straight people?" she said. "They assume that for anyone who isn't straight their sexuality is their defining characteristic. Yeah, it's part of me but it's not the most important part. Not by a long shot. When you meet someone for the first time do you say 'Hi, I'm Catherine Willows and I'm a heterosexual'? No? Then why would you expect me to say 'Hi, I'm Sara Sidle and I'm bi'?"

Catherine ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. "I don't," she said. "I mean...oh, fuck it." She leaned over and wrapped her arms round Sara. This time she didn't let go when Sara failed to reciprocate. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm coming off like a real idiot here."

Sara felt the defensiveness drain out of her slowly and she brought her arms up to hug Catherine back. She was surprised. It actually felt nice. "I'm sorry too," she said softly. "I'm just so used to having to defend myself to people."

Catherine tightened the embrace momentarily and then released her. "Really," she said apologetically. "I'm not as dense as this normally."

Sara laughed. "Don't worry about it. It'll take a little time to get used to. Jeez, it took me twenty-four years."

Catherine smiled. "I don't think I'll need that long."

Sara smiled back and, almost without meaning to, she found herself still talking. "The first time I was attracted to a girl I didn't have a clue what was going on. I was like, thirteen or something. My mom told me that all girls go through phases like that but I didn't seem to grow out of mine." Catherine smiled at that and nodded at her to go on. "So I went through High School totally self-conscious, thinking there must be something horribly wrong with me. Then I got to college and finally met like-minded people, and I realised there was nothing wrong with me after all. I came out as a lesbian, even though I was still attracted to men. No-one ever mentioned there was a third option so I felt like I had to declare myself one way or another. And for a while it didn't matter because I fell in love with this wonderful, beautiful girl and for as long as we were together I wasn't even looking at anyone else, male or female.” She shrugged. "We stayed together till graduation and then she dumped me for some reason. Maybe she'd just been doing the college experimentation thing, who knows. I moved back to 'Frisco and after a couple months I met this guy. Needless to say I was confused but he really helped me to see there were other options and I wasn't really being true to myself by identifying as a lesbian. And the rest, as they say, is history. But I'll tell you one thing - it was a million times harder to come out as bi than it was to come out as gay."

Catherine laughed softly. "If everyone is as stupid as me then I can believe that," she said. 

Sara gave her a friendly smile."You were fine," she reassured her. "Really."

Catherine flashed her a look. "You know, I don't think I've ever heard you talk about yourself for more than thirty seconds before."

"There's not much to talk about," Sara replied. Well, except for that big secret she was keeping from everyone - the one that made her hands shake and her brain foggy and had her dreading every visit to LVPD-HQ in case she saw Brass. There was that.

"I find that hard to believe," Catherine said, unaware of where Sara's thoughts had just led her. She reached out and touched Sara's hand. "Let's go out after shift. You can buy me that meal you owe me and we can have a proper talk, okay?"

Sara smiled apologetically and opened her mouth to decline. "Sure," she found herself saying instead, as if someone had taken control of her voice and was answering for her. And Catherine's dazzling smile made her disinclined to take it back.

The shrill beeping of Sara's pager interrupted the moment. Sara squinted down at it. "DNA results are back," she said.

Catherine reached for her seat belt. "Let's go."

* * * * *

Grissom was in the DNA lab with Greg when Catherine and Sara arrived. "Did you find anything out at the diner?" he asked, dispensing with the pleasantries. Catherine cocked her head to one side.

"You could say that," she said then turned to Greg. "Did you find a match for the hairs from CODIS?" she asked.

Greg became animated. "I sure did," he said. "It's-"

"Andy Green," Sara interrupted. 

Greg looked crestfallen. "You stole my moment," he said in a small voice.

Grissom looked at her with narrowed eyes. "This is the customer who'd been bothering her?" he asked.

Catherine shook her head. "More than that," she said. "They had some kind of boyfriend/girlfriend charade going on. Seems like Marianne didn't want anyone at Betty's to know she was gay."

"What about the skin under the nails, is that him too?" Sara asked.

Greg confirmed this with a nod. "Epithelials from the nylon rope match him too."

"Something tells me that this is our killer," Sara said, with a glance at Catherine.

"Agreed," Catherine said, nodding decisively. "I'll call Brass and have him picked up." She flipped open her cellphone and went out into the corridor to make the call.

Grissom held out a sheaf of papers to Sara. "Preliminary autopsy report," he explained. Sara took it and turned to leave. "Sara?"

She turned back and looked at him expectantly. He seemed nervous. "I was wondering if you'd...perhaps like to get breakfast with me after work?" he said. Greg looked between them with wide eyes. Sara silently cursed Grissom for doing this in front of him. It would be all round the lab in five seconds flat.

"Uh...." she hesitated, feeling torn in two directions at once. On the one hand, this is what she'd been waiting for all these months. On the other, she and Catherine were just starting to get closer and she'd been quite looking forward to going out with her after shift. It had taken them nearly four years to get to this stage and if she blew Catherine off now it might prove to be a major setback. "Actually Grissom," she said, making up her mind. "I've got plans."

Grissom looked slightly taken aback and suddenly Sara was pissed off. Did he really think he could just drop her and pick her up again anytime he wanted? Hadn't she warned him? 'By the time you've figured it out it may be too late'. That was pretty clear wasn't it?

"Oh," he said. Greg's eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets.

"I think I'll go and study this report," Sara said, shooting Greg a murderous look as she left. Trudging down the hallway towards her favourite lab she mentally cursed Grissom with every foul word in every language she knew. Why did he have to pick the worst fucking moments to mess with her head?

* * * * *

Catherine found Sara in lab number three half slumped over the report. She watched her for at least two minutes but she didn't turn the page. She seemed to be staring unseeing at the paper. Catherine wondered what she was thinking about. "Hey," she said gently and held up her hands in a non threatening gesture when Sara jumped. "Didn't mean to startle you."

Sara shook herself. "No, it's okay," she said. "Did Brass bring in Andy Green yet?"

Catherine frowned and shook her head. "The guy's fallen off the face of the Earth," she said. "There's a warrant out on him but...looks like we'll have to wait this one out." 

Sara sighed heavily. "Damn," she said, all her frustrations seeming to be encompassed by that one syllable. She looked over at Catherine, suddenly realising she was wearing her outdoor jacket and holding her purse. "You going somewhere?"

Catherine's forehead creased in a puzzled frown. "Uh, yeah," she said. "I'm going to breakfast and then I'm going home. It's ten after six, Sara."

Sara looked at her blankly. "You're shitting me."

Catherine shook her head. "How long have you been here?" she asked.

"I came straight from the DNA lab," Sara replied.

Catherine leaned over and picked up the report. "Must be one hell of an interesting report..." she mumbled, turning it back to page one.

Sara shook her head. "Not really." She was silent for a moment then seemed to pull herself together. "Listen, Cat, I'm really sorry but I don't much feel like breakfast right now. Would you mind just dropping me off at home please?"

Catherine didn't bother to hide her disappointment. "Sara," she said. It came out more like a whine.

Sara closed her eyes. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I'm really tired."

Catherine relented after a few moments of silence, trying not to let her disappointment cloud her voice. "Okay," she said. "Grab your stuff."

The ride to Sara's apartment was silent save for the background rumble of the local classic rock station. Catherine drew up outside Sara's building and looked over at her. "You sure you don't want to get something to eat?" she asked one last time.

Sara flashed her a tired smile and shook her head. "Sorry," she said. Impulsively she leaned over and kissed the other woman on the cheek. "Rain check?" she whispered close to Catherine's ear. Catherine nodded mutely and Sara pulled back. "See you tonight," Sara said and slipped out of the car. Catherine waited until the brunette had disappeared inside the building before letting off the emergency brake and pulling out into traffic. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing on end and the skin on her cheek was tingling. She knew why - she just didn't know what to do about it.


	2. Chapter 2

Sara dropped her keys three times before she finally managed to unlock the door and enter her apartment. She was immediately depressed by the sight. The place was a mess. Empty bottles and full ashtrays were strewn haphazardly all over the living room. Half empty takeout boxes lay in a small pile next to her sofa. She sighed heavily, wishing she'd gone out with Catherine and delayed coming home to this.

Grissom had upset her. She wasn't sure what was worse - that he'd asked her out a few months after he'd utterly rejected her, or that he'd just assumed she would say yes. Did she really present such a pathetic figure? Did people really think her life was so empty that she'd jump at the first bone Grissom threw her?

Looking around her apartment Sara conceded she could see how they might get that idea.

But she had Catherine. Someone who was definitely becoming a friend. Sara thought that the conversation she'd had with Catherine outside Betty's diner was the longest she'd had with anyone outside a work context in months. And Catherine now officially knew more about her than Grissom did.

And that was sad in itself. Catherine knew one solitary thing about her personal life and that was more than anyone at work, even the man she’d had all these powerful feelings for. The most powerful of which was, at the moment, anger. He'd messed up her head for the latter half of the shift so badly that she'd blown off her breakfast with Catherine. How long had it been since she'd been out with a friend socially? She couldn't even remember and that depressed her.

Sara briefly considered calling Catherine and telling her she'd changed her mind. She quickly rejected the idea though, deciding she didn't want to look like an idiot too early in this apparent fresh start.

Overcome by a sudden wave of lethargy Sara curled up on the sofa and wrapped her arms round her middle. She closed her eyes and a smile ghosted over her lips as she remembered how Catherine had hugged her earlier. That was another 'first time in months' moment. In fact, Catherine had been quite tactile with her this evening. It was nice. And she could still feel the softness of her skin against her lips...

Sara's eyes flew open. "Oh shit," she whispered to herself. "No. Please no."

But there was no denying the evidence. Her lips were tingling. Her stomach was doing gymnastics. Her heart was trying out some tiny experimental leaps.

She was attracted to Catherine.

"When the fuck did this happen?" she moaned, holding her head in her hands. The last thing she needed was another unattainable workplace crush.

Sara couldn't deal with this, it was just too much. She needed a bit of quiet in her head. Standing up, she made her way over to the liquor cabinet and cracked open a bottle of her most reliable friend - the ever ready Mr. Jack Daniels.

* * * * *

Catherine was more than halfway home when she spotted Sara's pager on the floor, nearly under the passenger seat. "Shit," she muttered, pulling over so she could lean down and retrieve it. Sara was on call - she couldn't be without her pager. Sighing, Catherine flipped open her cellphone and pressed the first speed dial.

"Nancy? It's me, listen something's come up and I'm going to be a little late collecting Linds. No, no, it's nothing big. I'll be running maybe a half hour late. Okay. Thanks, sis." She ended the call and threw her phone onto the passenger seat alongside Sara's pager. Then she performed a U-turn and started back towards Sara's apartment.

She was now heading back towards the city and the traffic was hellish. It took twenty minutes before she pulled up outside Sara's building. She grabbed the pager and practically ran up the three flights of stairs to Sara's apartment, checking her watch along the way. She was going to be late for Lindsey.

Catherine frowned when her gentle knocking at Sara's door received no response. Figuring she must be asleep already Catherine knocked a little harder. Still nothing. "Sara?" she called. "It's Catherine." Then she knocked again, harder still.

The door opened a crack and Sara stuck her head out. "Catherine?"

Catherine held up the pager. "You dropped this in my car," she said with a smile. "You're on call, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Sara said after a slight pause and reached out to take the pager from her. "Thanks, Catherine." With that she closed the door.

Catherine did a quick double take as the door closed in her face. "Oookay," she said. Never one to leave well enough alone, she knocked again. Sara opened it again, still only a crack. "Uhm, have I done something to piss you off?" Catherine asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No." Sara frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you're not exactly being very hospitable. What's up?"

A pause. "Nothing," Sara replied, with effort. "I'm just tired. Okay?"

Catherine looked like she was about to argue, then looked at her watch again. "Shit, I'm so late." She looked up at Sara again and realised she didn't have time to argue. "We'll talk tonight, okay?" Sara nodded and closed the door again.

Catherine trotted toward the stairs, shaking her head in puzzlement at Sara's behaviour. There was something familiar there...something she couldn't quite put her finger on...

It came to her just as she was climbing into the Tahoe. The slurred speech, the glazed eyes, the strange pauses... She’d seen it enough times with Eddie over the years. Sara was drunk.

Drunk at seven am - alone and while on call. Something was seriously wrong with that picture.

Catherine locked up her car again and hurried back up the stairs. She didn't bother with gentle knocking this time. She banged on the door hard with the palm of her hand, yelling Sara's name as she did so.

The door opened with Sara already speaking. "What's going on Catherine?" Catherine ignored her as she grabbed her face between her palms and stared into her eyes. Sara's pupils were dilated and she couldn't seem to focus. Catherine breathed deeply through her nose and smelled the sickly sweet aroma of bourbon on her breath.

"You've been drinking," she accused. "You're on call, Sara."

Sara shook her head dumbly. "I'm okay," she mumbled.

"Your pupils are like fucking dinner plates, you're not okay," Catherine replied harshly as she pushed Sara back and bulldozed her way into the apartment. Her breath caught in her throat at what she saw.

"Haven't cleaned in a while," Sara muttered, wrapping her arms around her own waist protectively.

Catherine cast her eyes over the various bottles and cans and empty glasses covering every surface, and a lot of the floor. "I don't drink this much in a year, Sara," she said. "So unless you haven't cleaned in that long then I think we've got a problem here." She turned round and tried to meet Sara's eyes but the brunette was looking at her feet. A single perfectly formed teardrop fell from Sara's eye and hit the hardwood floor. Catherine was by her side in an instant. She took Sara's face in her hands again, gentler this time, and wiped the tears away with her thumbs. "Why are you doing this to yourself, sweetheart?" she asked, trying to express all her affection and concern for the brunette in her unbroken blue gaze.

Sara shook her head. Her mouth was open but no sound was coming out. Catherine pushed a curtain of brown hair behind her ear and continued the motion to stroke the silky strands. Sara couldn't stand to meet her eyes any longer so she looked away. "I didn't want you to see this," she said huskily.

Any residual anger Catherine had been feeling suddenly melted away. She tugged Sara towards the sofa and sat them both down. Wordlessly she pulled Sara close to her, holding her head against her breast and stroking her hair. It was an overtly maternal gesture, but strangely intimate. Sara began to shake gently. Her arms gradually snaked round Catherine's waist and then tightened until she was clinging desperately to the older woman, shaking with deep, wracking sobs.

Catherine combed her fingers through Sara's hair gently, looking around the room in quiet disbelief. She couldn't quite take this in. Sara Sidle - cool, controlled, confident Sara Sidle - had been quietly falling apart and she hadn't noticed. Maybe no-one had noticed. It was obvious from the state of the apartment that this had been going on for months. She wondered what might have precipitated it.

A solitary tear fell from her eye as it clicked in her head. She remembered - just after the explosion - Grissom had told her Sara was interested in him but he'd turned her down. She desperately wanted to believe that wasn't the reason but she couldn't deny it fit both the timescale and Sara's behaviour.

"Sara?" she whispered when the brunette had begun to calm a little. "Why?" She didn't really expect an answer and wasn't surprised when she didn't get one. She cleared her throat. "Grissom?" Sara was still and silent for so long that Catherine had almost given up the hope that she might get an answer. Then she felt it. A small nod, barely noticeable, but it was enough.

Catherine felt sure her heart was breaking. She tilted Sara's face so she could look her in the eye. "Oh, Sara," she whispered, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. "He's not worth this. Not this." Sara looked away.

Catherine stood up and pulled Sara with her. Sara looked at her questioningly. Her face was streaked with tears in a way that would be comical if the whole situation wasn't so tragic. "Where's your bedroom?" Catherine asked. Sara did a quick double take and Catherine let out a short impulsive laugh. "I'm putting you to bed," she explained, tugging on her hand.

The bedroom was in as bad a state as the living room, but on a slightly smaller scale. Catherine sighed. She knew she had to get Sara to sleep before she could deal with it so she sat the brunette down on the bed and collected a nightshirt from her drawers. Sara sat dumbly as Catherine gently undressed her and pushed the nightshirt over her head. Under normal circumstances she would object strongly to this mothering but she could barely find the will to speak at the moment, much less argue.

Once Sara was safely tucked under the covers Catherine wandered into the kitchen in search of a garbage bag. When she reappeared in the bedroom Sara was looking at her through hooded eyelids. "Try to sleep," Catherine instructed gently. Giving her a brief smile she started cleaning the place up, glass tinkling in the garbage bag as it got fuller and fuller. When the bedroom had been cleared to her satisfaction she returned to Sara's side. She traced her fingertips over the other woman's forehead and into her hair. Sara's eyes closed slowly under her touch. Catherine leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Sleep," she murmured softly. She turned to go but felt her wrist caught between trembling fingers.

"Don't go," Sara whispered in a small voice.

"I won't, sweetie," Catherine replied. "I have to do something but I'll be back before you know it."

Sara let her go and nodded as she turned her head to the side and closed her eyes. Catherine stayed and watched her for a moment before making her way back to the living room.

Her hands were trembling as she sat on the sofa and ran her fingers through her hair. "Fuck," she mumbled, mindful of the woman sleeping in the next room. She covered her face with her hands and breathed deeply.

Suddenly her cellphone sprung to life and she was forced to leap for it so it wouldn't disturb Sara. "Willows," she said, pulling it to her ear.

It was her sister. Catherine paled as she realised she'd completely forgotten about Lindsey. "Oh shit, Nance, I'm sorry," she said contritely. "Listen, you know that little thing I had to do? It's kind of become a big thing. A really fucking big thing, actually." She paused. "Nancy? Do you think you could keep Lindsey today?" There was a pause on the other end of the phone and then Nancy spoke. "Yeah, it's really important," Catherine answered. "I'm with a friend and I can't leave her. She's in a pretty bad place right now. I need to stay with her." A smile spread over her face as her sister expressed her understanding. "Thanks, Nancy."

She clicked off the phone and took another look around the room. She took a deep breath and then forced herself onto her feet. "Okay," she said to herself. "May as well get on with it."

She walked into the kitchen and retrieved another garbage bag. She decided to start with this room since she was there. It was a small kitchen and Catherine could tell that Sara didn't do a lot of cooking in there. Still, it appeared that she hadn't washed a dish in at least three months and there was a pile of food encrusted crockery waiting by the sink.

An hour later all the dishes were clean and dry and in their proper places. She had also cleaned out the fridge and filled a garbage bag with trash - mostly empty bottles and cans. She took another bag out into the living room and began to methodically clean up in there too. After another hour she straightened up and wiped her brow. Her back was aching but the place looked a little fitter for human habitation, and that was something.

It took two trips to transport the three bags of trash from Sara's apartment to the nearest dumpster. That left Catherine with one last task before she was done.

Grabbing a cardboard box she opened up every cupboard and cabinet. Whenever she found alcohol she placed it carefully in the box. It was full by the time she'd looked everywhere. Carefully, Catherine took the box downstairs and stowed it in the trunk of her Tahoe.

Catherine returned to Sara's bedroom and noted with relief that Sara didn't appear to have moved since she'd left her. She stood and watched her sleep for a few minutes, wondering how someone could look so young and so painfully old at the same time. Then, with a tired sigh, she kicked off her shoes and crawled onto the bed next to Sara. She ran her hand over the other woman's face very gently, then wrapped her arm around her thin waist. Her heart was aching with sympathetic pain. The one thing she wanted more than anything else right now was to - somehow - make this all better. With that thought running through her mind, she drifted into an uneasy sleep.

* * * * *

Catherine woke several times during the day and eventually decided to cut her losses and get up just after three o'clock. Sara didn't seem to have moved at all which Catherine was thankful for. She'd been through an emotional wringer and Catherine was a great believer in the psychological healing power of sleep.

Gently she pulled away from Sara and stretched. Sara let out a small whimper but didn't wake up. Catherine ran her fingers through Sara's hair soothingly before she got up and slipped her shoes back on.

She made her way on tiptoes back into the kitchen. She had a look in all the cupboards and the fridge before concluding that there wasn't enough food in the house to feed an anorexic mouse. Hastily she scribbled a note for Sara in case she woke up before she got back and then grabbed her car keys, along with Sara's apartment keys which she found on the table by the door.

She got a little lost on the way to the grocery store, getting progressively more and more worried about Sara the longer she was gone. Catherine didn't want to think about what kind of state Sara might be in once she woke up, and hated the idea of her being alone in the apartment. The actual shopping itself took longer than it should have too, because she had to read the ingredients for practically everything to make sure it didn't have animal fat or gelatine lurking inside it somewhere. It was amazing how many processed foods did. Catherine suddenly realised why vegetarians were generally healthier than their meat eating counterparts - because they were forced to cook more things from scratch. She found herself buying only staples like bread, milk, eggs, rice, pasta and fresh vegetables. Then again, that was probably for the best since she had no idea what kind of food Sara liked.

The back seat of the Tahoe was loaded with paper bags when she finally finished, just before four. She managed to find her way back to Sara's building relatively easily and carried the groceries up to the apartment in two trips.

Sara was still asleep when she went in to check on her, and for that Catherine was immeasurably thankful. She had moved though - she was now curled up in a foetal position, gripping the blanket where Catherine had been sleeping.

Catherine made as little noise as possible while she bustled about in the kitchen, finding chopping boards, knives and pans. About twenty minutes later she had whipped up two passable omelettes, with plenty of mushrooms, onions and red peppers. She took one of the plates through to the bedroom, along with a large glass of milk, both of which she placed on the bedside table. She brushed her fingers over Sara's brow, smiling when the brunette turned towards her, still sleeping. "Sara," she said gently. "Time to wake up."

Sara opened her eyes slowly and groaned when she saw who was standing above her. Catherine laughed. "Okay sleeping beauty, time to eat," she said. Sara sat up gingerly and looked over at the plate Catherine was offering to her. She took it reluctantly, feeling sure she wouldn't be able to eat a thing. Catherine handed a fork. "Eat," she ordered, in her best 'do as I say' voice. Sara half-heartedly took a bite of her omelette.

Momentarily satisfied, Catherine returned to the kitchen to fetch her own plate. She brought it back into the bedroom and sat down next to Sara, who was currently wolfing her food like she hadn't eaten in a week. Catherine ate her own at a more sedate pace, smiling as she did so. It wasn't half bad.

Sara set her plate aside on the bedside cabinet and cleared her throat slightly. "Guess I was hungry after all," she said softly. Catherine laughed.

"Guess so." She was so engrossed in finishing her own plateful that she didn't notice the uncomfortable silence that had spread between them. When she looked up at Sara again she couldn't help but notice her averted eyes and slightly flushed cheeks. "I don't know what you're embarrassed for," she said matter-of-factly, correctly diagnosing the problem.

"You don't?" Sara scoffed.

"No," Catherine replied firmly. "You're my friend and you need help. I'm going to do everything in my power to provide it. That's kind of what friends do, you know?"

Sara looked up sharply. "And since when were you my friend?" she challenged. Catherine felt a wave of hurt pass through her and it must have showed on her face because Sara looked away again. "Sorry," she mumbled.

Catherine took a deep breath. "No," she said. "I deserved that." Another breath, shakier this time. "There are...reasons why I haven't always treated you as well as I should, but I don't think now's the time to get into them. I promise I'll tell you all about it soon. It's always been my problem, nothing to do with you. The important thing is I'm here with you now and nothing is going to make me go away. I don't care if you fight me, if you curse me, if you out and out hate me - I'm in this for the duration. Because let me tell you, Sara - you really need someone to look after you."

Sara wrapped her arms round her torso, trying to make herself look smaller. "I don't need you mothering me," she said, slightly bitterly.

Catherine stared at her for a long moment, then reached out and touched her blanket covered thigh. "I don't want to be your mother," she said in a low voice. Sara looked up and Catherine could tell by the look in her eyes that she didn't understand what she was trying to say to her. Catherine exhaled slowly. And that was probably for the best.

Catherine stood abruptly, taking Sara's plate from the bedside cabinet and stacking it on top of her own. "Drink your milk," she said gently. "I'll be back in a minute, and then we're going to have a long talk."

She took the dishes through to the kitchen, ran some hot water over them and began scrubbing, a little more vigorously than was required. She didn't hear Sara come up behind her so she was a little startled when she felt a hand close over her right shoulder and squeeze gently. "Thanks, Cat," Sara said quietly, and placed the empty glass into the sink.

Catherine turned and watched her retreat into the bedroom, trying to will her eyes not to stray down to the long expanse of bare leg revealed by the short nightshirt. She felt herself heat up a little as her gaze shifted lower, almost of its own volition. A traitorous part of her mind reminded her that she'd seen a hell of a lot more than her legs that morning when she'd undressed her, and Catherine almost melted into a puddle right there.

She spun around towards the sink so quickly she almost made herself dizzy. "Stop it," she muttered under her breath, and pinched her hand until the pain took her mind away from Sara.

* * * * *

Sara pulled on a comfortable old pair of sweats when she returned to the bedroom and slumped heavily onto the bed. Her mind was buzzing with contradictory feelings. On the one hand, she wanted Catherine to stay with her so badly it almost hurt. On the other, she was practically folding in on herself with embarrassment that Catherine had seen her in such a vulnerable state. The evidence of her months of self-destruction had been lying all over the apartment. Catherine had not only seen it but taken it upon herself to clean it up too. Sara was too mortified to be grateful.

She looked up as Catherine walked in, wiping her hands on the front of her jeans. She noticed for the first time how tired the older woman looked. There were slight bags under her eyes and she was slouching a little. "Have you slept?" she asked as Catherine fell onto the bed next to her.

"Yes," Catherine replied. "But not well."

Sara looked down. "Sorry."

Catherine reached out and grabbed her hand. "Don't do that," she said. "You don't have anything to apologise for."

Sara shrugged but didn't protest. Her thumb, of its own accord, began to rub gently over Catherine's hand. She frowned. "Your hand...it's red."

Catherine looked down and coloured slightly as she realised all her pinching had left a mark. "Water must have been too hot," she explained hurriedly, and pulled her hand away from Sara's. "It's nothing." She looked down, trying to stop herself from yawning. She didn't quite manage it.

"We have to be at work in three hours," Sara said softly. "You need to sleep."

Catherine shook her head, but snuggled down into the pillows nevertheless. She reached out her arm and pulled Sara down with her till they were both lying on their sides, face to face. "This is nice," Catherine said. "I don't think I've ever been on the same level as you before."

Sara smiled. "I'm only a couple inches taller than you," she said.

"But you wear those big honking boots," Catherine replied, teasingly.

"My concession to butch," Sara explained.

"Mmm. Well, it's not like I'm complaining."

Sara raised an eyebrow and Catherine blushed lightly. Sara reached out and gave her shoulder a slight push as they both began to laugh. "Why Ms Willows, if I didn't know better I'd say you were flirting with me."

Catherine sobered. "What if I am?" she said. Sara laughed again but stopped when Catherine didn't join in.

"Cat?"

Catherine looked away, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red. "Oh fuck - please pretend I didn't just say that," she said.

Sara was about to argue but then she realised that she didn't have the slightest clue what she was going to do about this latest development. She'd only just acknowledged her own attraction to the woman lying opposite her and, although she couldn't deny the warm, fuzzy feeling it gave her to think her attraction might just be reciprocated, she wasn't quite ready to do anything about it yet. So, instead of saying anything, she let her hand rest on Catherine's hip and waited for the awkward moment to pass.

"How d'you feel about having that talk now?" Catherine asked eventually, when the hottest flush of her embarrassment had passed.

Sara groaned softly. "How about no," she said.

Catherine reached out and curled her arm round Sara's waist. "Tough," she said, snuggling closer to Sara. "I'm going to lie here and make sure you don't go anywhere. And I want you to talk to me. You can tell me anything, as long as it's about you." She laid her head down on Sara's shoulder and half closed her eyes.

Sara was surprised at Catherine's sudden move, but pleasantly so. She snaked her own arm round Catherine's narrow shoulders, pulling her slightly closer. "Do you snuggle like this with all your friends?" she asked, with a laugh in her voice.

"Nope," Catherine replied. "You're special."

Sara smiled sadly. "I...I don't hear that very often."

Catherine tilted her head up. "You should," she said, and dropped a small kiss just under her chin. "It's true." She sighed softly. "Besides," she said. "If I'm going to make a fool of myself I may as well make a  _ big _ fool of myself."

Sara's skin burned where Catherine's lips had touched it and she swallowed slowly. Their obvious mutual attraction was like a white elephant in the room and she couldn't think of anything to talk about.

"Tell me about what you were like growing up," Catherine suggested gently.

Sara sighed in relief. Now that was a safe topic. She started to tell a story about the time she was roughhousing with her brother and his friends on top of a set of bunk beds and they'd managed to knock her off. The four foot drop, coupled with a bad angle of impact, led to the first of her many broken bones. Being a tomboy, she'd got into a few more scrapes and by the end of puberty had broken her left arm a further three times, and her right leg twice. "I was a little accident-prone," she understated, and was rewarded with a chuckle from Catherine.

"Is that why your left arm is a little weaker than your right?" Catherine asked, running her fingers over the arm in question.

"Yeah," Sara confirmed, frowning. "How did you know I had one arm weaker than the other?"

Catherine shrugged. "I notice things about you," she admitted softly. She lifted her head and found Sara looking down at her with those gorgeous dark eyes. Her hand moved to the other woman's face of its own free will, tracing over her forehead and her cheek, across her slightly trembling lips and finally down over the soft skin of her throat. "I notice everything about you..." she whispered.

Sara felt herself starting to shake. Catherine felt it too and began to pull away, cursing softly. Sara grabbed for her and pulled her tight against her body. "Cat," she said huskily. "This thing you're feeling...you're not alone. I just...don't know what to do about it all yet."

Catherine nodded into the crook of Sara's shoulder. She let out a shaky breath. "I know," she said, nuzzling against the other woman's neck. Sara groaned slightly and pulled back, putting a few inches of distance between them. Catherine blinked. "I envy you, in a way," she said quietly. "You went through all the fear and confusion at thirteen. You've had all this extra time to get used to the idea of being attracted to women. I've only had three and a half years."

Sara cocked her head. "Three and a half years?" she questioned lightly.

"Since I met you," Catherine confirmed, smiling at the look of amused pride which spread over Sara's face. "Don't let it swell your head."

"Is..." Sara began, but trailed off. "Is this why we've never really been friends?"

Catherine swallowed hard. "Yes," she admitted. "I'm ashamed of it, but...I thought I could get rid of my feelings for you by just shutting you out. When I started to get used to the idea of being attracted to you it seemed like I'd pushed you too far. Then I went through all that crap with Eddie, and you dumped that lousy cheating bastard-"

"Hank," Sara corrected her with a smile.

"Whatever," Catherine replied. "Anyway, it seemed like we were getting somewhere after all that. Remember that movie you went to see with me and Lindsey?" Sara nodded. "That was..." Catherine trailed off and laughed at herself. "That was like a trial run for a date. With a ten year old chaperone."

Sara frowned. "But things have gotten worse since then," she said. "Did I fail the test or something?"

"Oh no, sweetie, no," Catherine replied immediately. "It was all me. I just kind of freaked out because it all went so damn  _ well _ ."

Sara pulled Catherine back to her, tucking the red-blonde head beneath her chin. "Cat," she began. "I can't make you any promises."

"I know," Catherine said quickly. "I'm not asking you for anything."

Sara sighed in relief. She felt torn enough as it was, and she was immensely glad that Catherine wasn't going to pressure her. "Grissom asked me out earlier," she blurted, wincing slightly when she felt Catherine stiffen in her arms.

"What did you tell him?" Catherine asked, trying to keep the tightness from her voice.

"I said I already had plans," Sara replied. "But I ended up being so confused I couldn't face you either."

Catherine hesitated slightly and then spoke. "Maybe you ought to see how things turn out with Grissom before we talk any more about...this thing between us."

Sara was silent, rubbing her cheek gently across the silky softness of Catherine's hair. "I don't even know how I feel about him anymore," she said in a low voice. "It used to be exciting...exhilerating, even. Now it just hurts." Catherine squeezed her a little tighter. Sara cleared her throat. "I think...I think that's what the drinking's all about," she admitted. "You know what's it's like when you duck your head underwater? Everything's slower and quieter and lighter. That's what it's like when I drink...like going underwater. It dulls the pain."

Catherine tightened their embrace briefly. "But for how long?" she asked quietly. Sara took in a deep shaky breath.

"Not long enough," she confessed. Catherine pulled her head back so she could look into her eyes.

"You can't stay underwater forever, Sara," she said in a slow, deliberate voice. "You'll drown."

Sara felt tears prick at her eyelids and she blinked furiously. "I know."

Catherine slid up the bed a little and pulled Sara's head to her chest, dropping a kiss into her hair. "I'll keep you afloat," she promised. "If you let me." She stroked her hair gently for a few minutes and, when she looked down into Sara's face again, she realised that she'd soothed her back to sleep. With a small smile, Catherine closed her eyes and tried to follow her.

* * * * *

Sara woke up in Catherine's arms, feeling warm and safe and happier than she had in months. She would have gladly stayed there for hours - days even - but she knew they both had to get ready for work. Gingerly she eased her way out of Catherine's embrace and headed for the bathroom, stopping to collect a fresh set of clothes on the way. In deference to the fact that Catherine would need some time in the bathroom too she cut her shower short and dressed quickly, returning to the bedroom with a towel over her shoulders, occasionally rubbing at her damp hair. Catherine was still sleeping, curled up roughly in the centre of the bed.

"Cat," Sara called. "It's time to get up." Catherine groaned and turned onto her back but didn't open her eyes. Sara smiled indulgently and sat down beside her. "Catherine," she said gently, shaking her a little. "It's nearly time to go to work." That got a better reaction from the other woman. She opened her eyes slowly and blinked to clear her vision. She looked at Sara dumbly for a second before the memory of where she was came back and she groaned.

"What time is it?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.

"Just after seven," Sara informed her. "You've got time for a shower if you're quick."

Catherine nodded and rolled out of bed, landing awkwardly on her knees. Sara laughed as she pulled her to her feet. "You want to borrow a shirt or something?" she asked.

Catherine looked down at her rumpled and obviously slept in clothes. "Sounds like a plan," she replied. Sara rummaged through her drawers, looking for something that would fit without looking too stupid.

"Hmm," she murmured, pulling out a plain white tank top and a light brown turtleneck sweater. "Try these."

Catherine took them with a smile of thanks and disappeared into the bathroom. When she heard the spray begin, Sara wandered into the kitchen to see what she could rustle up for breakfast.

Catherine emerged from the shower to the smell of toast and coffee. She dried and dressed quickly, her stomach rumbling. The borrowed sweater slid snugly over her body and she almost moaned aloud as Sara's scent washed over her. This sweater clearly hadn't been worn since the brunette had taken up smoking again, so it smelled faintly of California orange groves - Sara's own unique, natural perfume.

Sara smiled and held out a mug as Catherine emerged from the bathroom. "Cream and two sugars," she said. "That right?"

"That's right," Catherine confirmed, accepting the cup and inhaling with gusto. She took a sip and grabbed a slice of toast and marmalade from the plate sitting on the kitchen counter. "I love this sweater," she mumbled around her toast.

Sara smirked. "Keep it," she said. "It looks better on you than it ever did on me."

Catherine swallowed her mouthful and placed the toast and cup back on the counter. "It smells like you," Catherine explained bashfully. "That's why I like it."

Sara slowly smiled and stepped closer to Catherine. She placed her hands on the other woman's hips and pulled her forward so they were touching. Catherine slid her hands up Sara's arms and curled her fingers round her biceps. "I'd like to kiss you right now," Sara confessed, smiling shyly. "But it's probably a really bad idea."

"Probably," Catherine agreed breathily, then leaned forward and pressed their lips together, chastely and sweetly. Sara tightened her grip on the other woman's middle briefly, and moaned softly when Catherine pulled away. "I've wanted to do that for years," the older woman admitted, her lips still practically touching Sara's.

"I'm beginning to think I have too," Sara replied, tangling their lips together again ever so briefly before stepping back. "We have to go to work," she said, looking distinctly unenthusiastic about the idea.

Catherine sighed. "I guess you're right." She went into the bedroom to collect her jacket and purse. When she returned Sara was waiting by the door.

"D'you want to take two cars or one?" Sara asked.

Catherine frowned. "I thought there was something wrong with yours," she said, cocking her head in a silent question.

Sara flushed hotly and looked away. "I, uh...I lied about that," she admitted. "There's nothing wrong with the car, I just knew I was over the limit." A wave of hot shame rolled through her and she felt tears pricking at her eyes. "I'm sorry."

Catherine tilted her chin up and gave her a small smile. "Hey," she said gently. "Don't beat yourself up over it. You acted responsibly."

"I lied to you," Sara protested.

Catherine smiled. "I forgive you," she said. "As long as you don't do it again." She stroked her hand down the side of Sara's face. "I don't know what's going to happen between us, Sara," she said. "But I do know we have to be honest with each other from this point on, or it's doomed before it starts. Agreed?" Sara nodded dumbly and Catherine rewarded her with another gentle kiss. "Good," she said. "And we'd better take both cars."

Sara smiled and nodded as she reached for her keys.

* * * * *

When she was safely in her car and watching Catherine driving away Sara was glad they'd decided to travel separately. It wasn't that she didn't want to spend time with Catherine - she did - but she felt like she needed her space right now. Catherine's discovery of her little problem, and the subsequent emotional roller coaster, had left her feeling more than a little drained.

She flipped on her car stereo as she pulled into traffic, and smiled as she recognised the CD she'd left in there. It was Mary Chapin Carpenter's last album, and she found herself humming along to the calming sounds of acoustic guitars, piano and a soothing female voice.

Making a brief stop at her local pharmacy she continued her journey to work. Catherine was waiting for her as she pulled into the parking lot. "You hit some traffic?" Catherine asked as the brunette stepped out of her car.

Sara shook her head and held up the white pharmacy bag. "Nicorette patches and gum," she explained.

Catherine raised an eyebrow. "You quitting again?"

Sara smiled. "May as well give up all my destructive habits at once," she said.

Catherine stepped closer to her, then ducked her head sheepishly. "I guess I really shouldn't kiss you here," she said softly.

Sara touched her arm. "It's enough that I know you want to," she replied. Catherine looked up.

"Well, I really,  _ really _ , want to," she said huskily, and Sara felt her heart give a little jump.

She cleared her throat. "We...uh...we should probably go in," she said.

Catherine smiled and conceded the point, gesturing for Sara to go on ahead.

Sara saw her as soon as she entered the building - the unmistakable form of Emily Porter arguing with the receptionist, looking about ready to pull her over the desk. "What's going on here?" she asked as she stepped up behind the blonde and placed a reassuring hand on the small of her back. Catherine hovered a few feet away, ready to jump in if she too were needed.

"Sara," Emily gasped, turning to her. Sara could see that she was furious but close to tears nevertheless. "They won't tell me anything about what's going on with Marianne."

Sara turned to the receptionist and glared at her. Catherine - who'd been on the receiving end of that glare more than a few times - smirked and almost felt sorry for the clueless woman who was about to get a taste of Sara's righteous anger.

"They what?" she said icily, addressing Emily but boring her eyes into the receptionist's.

"I'm not immediate family, apparently," Emily replied, her voice wavering. Sara rubbed her back slightly to calm her.

"If you're not I'd like to know who is," she said, raising her eyebrow at the receptionist in a silent challenge.

"As I've already explained," the woman said. "I can't release any information to anyone but a parent, sibling or spouse."

Emily looked ready to launch herself over the desk but Sara held her back with a look. "This is Marianne Roberts' spouse," she explained, as if she was talking to a particularly slow-witted child. "They were only missing the paperwork." Sara was sure she saw the hint of a smirk pass over the receptionist's lips and she saw red. "Wipe that smile off your face, or I'll wipe it off for you," she spat.

The woman had the audacity to look affronted as she stood and drew herself up to her full height. Unluckily for her, Sara still towered over her by at least four inches. "Excuse me, Miss Sidle, I really don't think-"

"No, you don't, do you?" Sara interrupted. "A person comes in here, grieving for her partner, desperate for information and you get hung up on technicalities? What kind of pathetic excuse for a human being are you?" The woman's lips tightened into a straight line but she didn't answer. "You've got nothing to say?"

The woman looked up and repeated: "I can only release information to a parent, sibling or spouse."

Catherine let out a small sound of disgust and stepped up, hoping to avoid the very real possibility that Sara would decide to smack some sense into this woman's head. "Okay, that's enough," she said, slamming her ID onto the desk. "I'm a senior CSI assigned to this case and I'd like an update on the victim's status. Spit it out."

With more than obvious reluctance the receptionist pulled up Marianne's file on her terminal. "The body is ready for release," she said stiffly. "But we'll need her next-of-kin to sign the release form."

"Who's Marianne's next-of-kin?" Sara asked Emily gently.

Emily breathed out shakily. "Probably the father who disowned her when she was eighteen," she said.

Catherine felt her heart clutch in sympathy at Emily's predicament. She turned back to the receptionist, fire in her eyes. "We're here to help people," she said firmly. "Not cause them unnecessary pain. If you ever find yourself on the wrong side of the system, I hope you remember what you've put this woman through tonight." She leaned forward slightly when the receptionist remained unphased. "I'll be watching you," Catherine threatened softly. "One false move and you'll be out of here so fast your feet won't touch the ground." Looking away from her in disgust, Catherine turned her attention back to Sara who was busy comforting a quietly sobbing Emily Porter.

"Listen, Cath, I'm going to take Emily for a coffee or something," Sara was saying.

Catherine nodded, reaching out and touching Sara's arm. "What'll I tell Grissom?" she asked softly.

"Tell him I'm interviewing a witness," Sara replied.

Catherine nodded, trailing her hand down Sara's arm and tangling their fingers together briefly before she stepped away and headed towards the lab. Sara shot the receptionist a final sour look as she ushered Emily out of the building and into her car.

"You don't have to do this," Emily protested weakly as she slumped into the passenger seat.

"I want to," Sara assured her.

Emily nodded and closed her eyes until they drew up outside the coffee shop. Sara opened the door for her and offered her arm to lean against as she got out. "Thanks, Sara," Emily said quietly as she allowed herself to be led inside and seated on a plush sofa.

"What can I get you?" she asked.

"Anything as long as it's hot, strong and black," Emily replied. Sara nodded and went over to the counter, reappearing a minute later with two steaming mugs. She sat down next to Emily and produced a candy bar from her pocket.

"I think you need the sugar," she said, pushing it into the other woman's hands. Emily accepted it gratefully and bit into it like it was the first thing she'd eaten all day. Which it might well have been.

"Thanks for this," she said, taking a sip of her scalding hot coffee. "I spent the day surrounded by all our friends but they're grieving themselves. I needed to get away."

Sara nodded in understanding. "I'm sorry about what happened back there," she said.

"Don't worry about it," Emily replied, waving her hand dismissively. "You get used to crap like that after a while."

"You shouldn't have to."

Emily turned and gave her a watery smile. "I know. But that's just the way things are." Sara sighed and sank back into the sofa. Emily leaned back with her. "Have you learned anything about what happened?" she asked quietly.

Sara hesitated. "There are things I can't talk about," she said, feeling like shit as she did so. "A defence attorney would rip me to shreds if they found out I'd commented on an open case."

Emily sighed deeply and nodded. "I understand," she said.

"I can tell you how she died," Sara said gently. "If you want me to."

The blonde drew in a deep shuddering breath and nodded. "Yes, I think I need to know."

Sara reached out and took her hand. "The evidence suggests that she was suffocated when the suspect placed a hand over her mouth and nose. The position she was in when you found her was staged after she died." Sara felt her hand being squeezed almost painfully but she didn't say anything, or pull away.

"Did he...was she-"

"No," Sara assured her. "There was no sign of sexual assault."

Emily let out a shaky sob. "Well. That's something." Sara agreed. Not much, but something.

Sara allowed Emily time to get herself together before she spoke. "Can I ask you something?" she said when Emily seemed calmer.

"Shoot," Emily replied, wiping at her eyes.

"Did you know that Marianne was closeted at work?"

Emily nodded. "Yes. I'm not out at work either. Are you?"

Sara raised an eyebrow. Obviously she'd set off Emily's gaydar. Lesbians had told her in the past that it was her walk that did it - along with those 'big honking boots' Catherine had mentioned earlier. "I'm not actually gay," she said gently.

Emily looked up in complete mortification. "Oh shit, I'm so sorry!"

"Why?" Sara asked quizzically. "I don't consider it an insult to be mistaken for a lesbian." Emily smiled. "Besides," Sara continued. "You weren't far off. I'm bi. And no, I'm not out at work. Well, not completely."

Emily drained her coffee. "It's hard to judge how people will react," she said. "I was friends with this woman a few years ago who I'd known forever. I thought I knew her pretty well, but when I came out to her she completely freaked." She placed the empty coffee cup back on the table. "Marianne came out to her parents when she was eighteen. They went nuts. Disowned her, threw her out of their house. She had to drop out of college. I'd recently managed to convince her that I was earning enough to support her if she wanted to go back. She was going to do it." Emily trailed off, too choked up to continue.

Sara opened her mouth to speak but her cellphone interrupted. "Sidle," she said impatiently as she lifted the phone to her ear. She listened patiently for a few moments, then her eyes widened at what she heard. "Bovine?" she exclaimed. Emily looked at her quizzically and Sara moderated her tone. "Greg, are you sure? Yeah, yeah, okay, I'm not doubting you. I'll be back soon. Bye, Greg." She clicked the phone off and turned to Emily. "I've got to go," she explained.

"Was that about Marianne?" Emily asked hopefully. Sara winced. "I know, I know, you can't comment on an open case." She sighed. "My car's back at the station," she said. The drive back to the station was silent and blessedly short. Emily looked over at Sara as she pulled into a parking space. "Thanks, Sara. For everything." Sara nodded and gave her a small smile. Emily stepped out of the car, then turned back. "I think," she said slowly. "I think Marianne mentioned that this Andy guy works in a slaughter-house." Sara raised an eyebrow as Emily continued. "If that helps you any."

"It just might," Sara replied. "Thanks."

Emily managed a thin smile as she closed the door and headed towards her car. Sara hurried inside, in search of Catherine.


	3. Chapter 3

"I cannot believe there are 24 hour slaughterhouses," Catherine said as she and Sara stepped out of the Tahoe.

Sara shrugged. "McDonalds needs beef," she said. "This is one of the reasons I'm a vegetarian."

"I thought it was that thing with the pig," Catherine replied, flashing her a smile.

"That too," Sara admitted. Catherine laughed as she approached the security gatehouse and flashed her ID.

"I'm Catherine Willows, this is Sara Sidle. We're here to see Bob Fairbanks." The security muscle inspected her ID with narrowed eyes before letting them in.

"I'll call him down for you," he said, picking up a phone receiver. Catherine and Sara stood a few paces away from him.

"It can't possibly be a coincidence that there are traces of bovine DNA in Marianne's wounds and our prime suspect works in a slaughterhouse," Sara said, almost whispering so the security guard wouldn't hear.

"Agreed," Catherine replied with a firm nod. "I just don't know if we're going to find anything here."

"We have to try," Sara said, straightening up as she spotted a guy in a suit approaching them.

"Ms. Willows?" he said, looking at Sara.

"Uh, no, that would be me," said Catherine, reaching out to shake his hand. "This is Sara Sidle."

The man smiled and reached out for Sara's hand once Catherine had released his. "Sorry," he said. "I'm Bob Fairbanks, the night manager here."

"Pleased to meet you," Sara said. dropping her hand to her side. "We'd like to ask you about an employee of yours, an Andy Green?"

"Former employee," Bob Fairbanks corrected her. "He left work last night almost as soon as he arrived, and didn't even bother to show up tonight. No phone call, no nothing, so he's out of a job."

Sara's ears had perked up when he'd mentioned the previous night. "What time did his shift start yesterday?" she asked.

"Nine thirty," he replied. "We have a record of him clocking in but he took off almost straight away."

Catherine and Sara threw each other matching significant looks. Andy Green had been here just a few hours after Marianne was killed.

"Could we possibly see his locker?" Catherine asked, turning back to Bob Fairbanks.

He shrugged. "Sure. Follow me."

Catherine and Sara shouldered their kits and followed him down the narrow passage. When he opened the door at the end of the corridor they got a sneak peak at hell.

The noise and the smell were almost unbearable. Machinery was grinding and spinning madly, propelling the carcass of cow after cow around the production line. There was blood all over the floor and all over the workers, who were slicing into the hanging cows at breakneck speed. At the sound of knives digging into raw flesh Catherine turned and grabbed Sara, burying her face in her neck. She looked slightly green.

"Hey, is she okay?" Fairbanks asked with concern.

Sara was almost incapable of answering as she was feeling more than a little sick herself. She couldn't take her eyes off the rotating carcasses, and suddenly she realised where she'd seen something like this before. "This is where he got the idea to hang her up by her feet," she said to Catherine who nodded into her neck. "God, I want to nail this sick bastard."

Catherine grabbed Sara's hand and squeezed as she pulled her head back. "Me too," she said. "Oh, and Sara?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I just became a vegetarian."

Sara smirked and turned to Fairbanks who was looking at them with concern. "She's okay. It was just a bit of a shock."

Fairbanks nodded in understanding. "I sometimes forget people aren't as used to this as I am." He gestured ahead of him. "The locker room is just through here," he said.

Sara nodded and followed him. Catherine didn't let go of her hand till they'd left the stench and noise of the main floor.

"Which one is his?" Sara asked once they were inside the locker room. Fairbanks pointed to one anonymous locker in a row of anonymous lockers. Sara couldn't see anything special about it. "Have you got a way to open it?"

Fairbanks fiddled with a key chain at his belt and finally produced a master key. He started towards the locker but Catherine stopped him with a hand on his arm. "I'll have to ask you not to touch it," she said. Sara snapped on a pair of latex gloves and took the key from him.

The first thing they noticed was the knife. It was huge, unfriendly looking and frighteningly sharp. Catherine pulled a camera up to her eye and snapped three photographs in quick succession.

"That's strange," Fairbanks said. "I wouldn't have thought he'd leave his knife."

Catherine looked up sharply. "This is his own personal knife?"

Fairbanks nodded. "All employees have their own knives," he said. "They're expected to care for them on their own time. No-one would leave their knife in their locker."

Sara was only half listening. She'd just spotted a polaroid photograph taped to the inside door. She plucked it off and held it out to Catherine. "Recognise anyone?" she said.

Catherine's breath caught in her throat. "Marianne," she said.

Sara nodded and turned back to the knife. She lifted it out carefully and asked Catherine to give her the Luminol. She sprayed it and the knife turned blue, as she'd expected. "Blood," she said. "Not too surprising for a knife used in a slaughterhouse." She set it down and reached into her kit. "Now to find out if it's human."

Catherine frowned as she spotted something inside the locker, right at the back. She reached in and pulled it out just as Sara's face lit up in triumph. "Human blood," she said, holding up the proof. Catherine held up the T-shirt she'd just pulled out of the locker. Sara's eyes were drawn to the deep red stain covering the front of it.

"Snap," said Catherine.

* * * * *

Sara left the slaughter-house with a sense of grim satisfaction, knowing that they now had enough evidence to send Andy Green to death row - if they ever found him. The sick feeling which had come over her when she realised why Marianne had been hanging when she was found hadn't dissipated yet, but she was feeling better with every lung full of clean desert air she drew in through her nose. Catherine's hand being wrapped around hers as they walked back to the Tahoe helped too.

"I'm never even looking at a steak again," Catherine was saying, looking paler than usual.

Sara let out a small, musical laugh. "I've got a convert?" she said, eyes twinkling as she looked down at Catherine.

"You converted me years ago," she replied in a half growl, grinning widely when Sara blushed. She looked around to make sure they were alone in the parking lot, then stepped forward and pressed her lips to Sara's in an all-too-brief kiss.

Sara let out a shaky breath as she dropped her kit, pulling Catherine to her in a tight hug. "Cat..." she breathed, not really knowing what else to say, or even if she wanted to keep speaking.

Catherine buried her head in that little place in the crook of Sara's neck that seemed to have been created for no other purpose than for Catherine to snuggle into. Her arms tightened around Sara's middle, feeling her world contract into this moment, this embrace. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "We agreed to give each other time to get used to all this before we jumped into anything, and here I am kissing you every five minutes. It must be confusing for you."

Sara shook her head and dropped a kiss onto Catherine's forehead. "Actually, sweetie, when you're kissing me is the only time I'm not confused."

Catherine looked up into smouldering dark eyes and felt her heart give a little leap as she realised they were about to go way beyond sweet and chaste. Their mouths crashed together like breaking waves, lips merging, tongues tangling, teeth clashing. Catherine felt the weight of three and a half years of suppressed desire washing over her, leaving a burning heat in its wake. A throaty groan bubbled up from somewhere deep inside her and she slid her fingers into Sara's hair, gripping tightly. Her back hit the bonnet of the Tahoe with quite a bit of force but she didn't even notice the slight pain. She arched into Sara and threw back her head, Sara's lips finding her earlobe and nipping slightly before trailing down her throat. Sara's leg slipped between her jean-clad thighs, thrusting slightly, and Catherine felt her entire lower body turn liquid. "Sara," she said, a word without a thought attached. She felt nimble long fingered hands slipping under her borrowed sweater, sliding over stomach muscles which were strained taut as wire. An animalistic moan was ripped from her throat as Sara's fingertips ghosted over her breasts, the nipples going diamond hard even through the thin material of her bra. Her hips began to thrust into Sara's thigh of their own accord. "Sara," she whispered hotly. "Sara, baby, I-"

A car door slammed somewhere in the near distance and the two women leaped apart as if they'd been burned. Catherine looked around wildly, trying to smooth her clothes and make it look like she hadn't just been practically having sex on the bonnet of a truck in the middle of a public parking lot.

"Shit, we just did that didn't we?" Sara said in a small voice.

Having decided that the sound hadn't come from anywhere in eyeshot, Catherine turned back to Sara, breathing a little heavily. "We nearly did a hell of a lot more, too," she said.

Sara smiled slowly and stepped closer to Catherine, taking her hands. "We're fucking crazy."

Catherine laughed almost hysterically and wrapped herself round Sara. "Certifiable," she said into Sara's chest, feeling a flush rise to her cheeks. The desire was still there, a smouldering fire deep in her belly, but it was tinged with sanity now and she knew she wouldn't lose control again. She felt a pair of lips press against the crown of her head.

"Have you really wanted me for three and a half years?" Sara said, rubbing her cheek across Catherine's silky red-blonde hair.

A smile jumped to Catherine's lips. "D'you remember the afternoon we met?" she said, and felt Sara nod. "You came in and said 'Do you know where I can find Catherine Willows?' I don't know if it was because I was tired from pulling a double, or if I was just upset about Holly but I wasn't prepared for you when I looked up. You were this...goddess, just standing there silhouetted in the doorway. Just beautiful..." She trailed off. "I didn't understand what I was feeling so I got hostile." She let out a bitter laugh. "A little flaw of mine, as you might have noticed." She looked up, getting lost in the soft brown eyes which were looking down at her with understanding and...was that forgiveness? "You're so amazing..." Catherine murmured, trailing her fingers over Sara's cheek.

Sara looked away bashfully, locking her eyes on a constellation hanging just above the horizon. "I can think of a few things about me that aren't so great," she said seriously. Catherine turned her face back towards her with a firm hand.

"I'll be the judge of that," she said softly and pulled Sara towards her for a kiss. It was less incendiary this time, though the desire was still lurking under the surface. But Catherine wanted to let Sara feel her love, not her lust, so she kept her baser instincts in check.

"Wow," Sara breathed when they parted.

"Yeah," Catherine replied with a soft smile. They gazed at each other in comfortable silence for what felt like hours, but couldn't have been more than a minute. Then Sara forced herself to look away and smiled ruefully.

"We're working," she said, bringing Catherine crashing back to reality. They untangled themselves from each other reluctantly.

"Work, right," Catherine muttered as she pulled out her car keys and unlocked the Tahoe with a click of a button. Sara flashed her a warm smile and made her way round to the trunk to stow her gear.

A second too late Catherine remembered what was in her trunk and dashed round to Sara's side. "Shit," she said, seeing that Sara was standing transfixed by the box full of bottles Catherine had cleared from Sara's apartment. Sara reached out and ran her hand over the neck of a half-full bottle of whisky.

"Was all this really in my apartment?" she asked in a small voice.

Catherine nodded slowly. "Yeah," she replied, placing her hand on the small of Sara's back.

Sara stared at the box for a moment longer then abruptly hefted it into her arms. Catherine stepped back and allowed her to pass as she made her way over to a nearby dumpster. Placing the box on the ground, she opened the dumpster, and frowned at what she saw there.

"Cat," she called over her shoulder. "Bring the camera."

Catherine frowned but did as she was told. Sara gestured into the depths of the dumpster.

"I think I just found Marianne's missing clothes," she said. Catherine took multiple photographs while Sara went to fetch gloves and some plastic evidence bags. "We should take this stuff back to the lab," she said when their latest discovery had been documented and collected. Catherine nodded.

They stopped at the next dumpster they saw on the way to dispose of the box.

* * * * *

Greg's eyes nearly popped out of his head when he was presented with the huge slaughterhouse knife. "Are you trying to tell me something ladies?" he asked, looking up at Catherine and Sara with a smirk.

Catherine shook her head, trying not to get sucked into Greg's banter for once. "Just swab it and check the DNA, Greg. We know there are traces of human blood, we just need to prove its Marianne's."

Greg let out a low whistle. "May be a tall order," he said. "Depending on what it was cleaned with."

Catherine held up the T-shirt she had also collected, pointing to the smeared bloodstains. "I think this might answer that question."

"Okay. I should be able to get something then, as long as he didn't use any chemicals."

Sara gave him a friendly clap on the shoulder. "We have faith in you, Greg," she said. "But don't let it go to your head."

They left Greg to do his thing with the knife and the shirt and dropped off the other clothes in the evidence locker to await identification. The break room was their next port of call. Catherine poured Sara a cup of coffee and handed it to her with a gentle smile. Sara managed to spill it a little with her shaking hands. "You okay?" Catherine said with a frown.

Sara nodded as she put the cup down and clenched her hands into fists. She looked away from Catherine as she spoke. "I haven't gone this long without a drink in about three months," she admitted. "This...hand thing happens sometimes."

Catherine reached out and took one trembling hand in her own. "The beginning is the hardest," she said, with a certainty born of personal experience. "You'll be shaky, and irritable, and sometimes you'll want a drink so bad you'll think you can taste it. But it will get easier, I promise you."

Sara looked up sharply. "How do you know? How can you possibly know how I'm feeling?"

Catherine tightened her grip on Sara's hand. "You never wondered why I can identify cocaine with just a look?"

The implied admission hung heavily between them for a few moments, then Sara looked up with tears in her eyes. "You'll help me, right Cat?" she said in a small voice.

Catherine closed the distance between them, pulling Sara's head against her stomach and stroking her fingers through her hair. "I'll do everything I can," she promised. "But you have to meet me halfway."

Sara knew instinctively she wasn't just talking about the drinking. She looked up, her mouth open to speak.

"Sara?" Grissom ducked his head in the door and both women spun to face him. He frowned a little at their close proximity but seemed to shake it off. "402 at a bakery downtown. You're with me," he said, looking at Sara. "Come on."

Sara held up a hand to stall him. "Grissom, I'm on the Marianne Roberts case."

"Are you following any leads right now?"

Sara silently cursed Grissom and his logical thought process. "No, but...there's the paperwork-"

"Catherine can handle the paperwork. I want you." Something in his tone of voice suggested he was talking about more than work.

Sara's heart almost stopped. She looked up at Catherine who had paled slightly at Grissom's words. She managed a small smile for Sara nevertheless.

"Go on," she said. "I'll be here when you get back."

Sara swallowed hard, wishing Grissom would go and leave them alone, even for a few moments. But he was just standing there waiting for her so she had to settle for communicating with her eyes. Only trouble was, even she wasn't sure what she was trying to get across. In the end she had to go with Grissom, without a word.

When they were gone Catherine slumped into Sara's recently occupied chair and covered her face with her hands. "Gil Grissom," she mumbled to herself. "I fucking  _ hate _ you right now."

Sara was itching to turn the radio on but she resisted, knowing Grissom hated noise when he was driving. The silence was starting to get to her. She couldn't help but compare this car ride to the one she'd shared with Catherine the previous morning - Catherine had been listening to a classic rock station and singing along under her breath. It had been warm and comfortable. Not like this at all.

She studied Grissom's profile intently as he drove. His face was a puzzle she had never been able to crack. She could never tell if he was happy or sad, calm or angry, frustrated or serene. Did he even feel those emotions? She supposed he must, but she was damned if she'd ever found any evidence for it.

Not like Catherine. It all came down to a comparison now, didn't it? Catherine wore her heart on her sleeve. If she was happy the world knew it within seconds. If she was mad at you for something there was no way you could miss it. When she was upset it was like a black cloud was following her, darkening the whole atmosphere. And when she kissed her Sara could feel that she loved her.

When had Grissom ever made her feel like that? Oh sure, he'd made the odd throwaway comment ( _ 'Since when are you interested in beauty?' 'Since I met you. _ ') Moments she'd clung to when she returned to her apartment morning after morning, cold and alone. Most of the time he just looked right through her. Not like Catherine ( _ 'I notice everything about you... _ ')

The click of Grissom's car door interrupted her thoughts and she realised with a start that they'd arrived at their crime scene. "You coming?" Grissom said.

"Yeah," she muttered, sliding out of the car. She grabbed her kit and sauntered over to Grissom, looking with dismay at the burnt out shell of a building that was their crime scene. "Did I ever mention how much I hate fires?"

Grissom shrugged. "Part of the job," he said.

Sara nodded. "Let's get on with it then," she said, waving to a vaguely familiar cop as she headed for what had once been Salieri's Downtown Bakery.

* * * * *

Catherine knew she had to concentrate on this report. The case against Andy Green had to be airtight and she couldn't let a defence attorney get even a sniff of improper procedure. That was why she was so mad at herself for tearing up every five goddamn minutes.

The fifth time it happened she abandoned her paperwork entirely and fled for the safety of the women's bathroom, locking herself into a stall to get a little privacy as she fell apart.

'I want you,' he'd said to Sara, words which Catherine knew the brunette had been waiting to hear for months. It had been glaringly obvious to her for at least a year that Sara loved Grissom, just as it had been obvious that Grissom was oblivious. That had changed now though, as, perhaps, had Grissom's willingness to do something about the situation. If Sara wanted him then who was she to stand in the way? She'd said as much that afternoon, lying in Sara's bed, suggesting that she should see what was between her and Grissom before the two women did anything about their mutual attraction. If that had been the end of it Catherine really believed she could have handled it. Sure, her heart would have shattered into a million tiny pieces at the sight of Sara with Grissom, but she'd gone through the same thing with Hank so she knew she could survive it.

But she'd kissed her now. And more than that... What had happened in the slaughterhouse parking lot had pushed Catherine firmly past the point of no return. Three and a half years of wanting her, two years of loving her. How was she supposed to resist the siren's song of Sara's lips when she was right there, holding her?

If only she didn't know what her lips tasted like.

If only she hadn't nuzzled into that sweet spot at the base of her throat, feeling how perfectly they fit together. If only she hadn't woken up wrapped around her with the afternoon sun dancing across their bodies. If only she hadn't felt those strong hands caressing her, lighting a fire deep inside. A fire that wasn't going to go out, even if Sara now changed her mind.

Catherine leaned forward so her forehead was practically touching her knees and bit back a sob. Damn Grissom and his fucking awful timing. Why did he have to decide he wanted Sara now? Why couldn't it have been a month ago, a week ago even? Better yet, why couldn't it have been six months ago, before Sara had turned to drink to block out the pain of his rejection? Sara could have been happy and Catherine could have gone on loving her in silence, never being tortured by a glimpse of what might have been.

It wasn't like she wasn't already supremely skilled at hiding her feelings for Sara. For the first year and a half or so it had been nothing but physical attraction, or so she'd liked to kid herself at the time. She still remembered with absolute clarity the moment that had changed. The two of them had been sent out to a crime scene at a convenience store in the ass end of nowhere. They'd been there all night and Catherine was worrying about Lindsey and how she was going to explain to Nancy that she was going to miss driving her daughter to school for the third time that week. She was bitching and moaning and taking her frustrations out on Sara when the brunette simply stood up and handed her a candy bar from the counter in a gesture which clearly said 'start eating and shut up'. But it was the little smirk on her face which broke through Catherine's defences.  _ Oh _ , Catherine remembered thinking.  _ I'm in love with her. When did that happen? _

Catherine's hands balled into fists, nails digging painfully into her palms. If only they'd had a chance to talk, to work out where they stood with each other. She wondered if Sara was as confused on that score as she was.

* * * * *

Sara bagged her final charred cinder of the night with a deep sigh. Fires were universally acknowledged among CSIs to be the worst crime scenes. What the fire didn't destroy the fire-fighters usually did. In this case, however, the burn pattern had clearly indicated arson and the owner had confessed to torching the place for the insurance after roughly thirty seconds of sustained questioning. Grissom had then instructed her to collect samples from the scene in order to determine the accelerant used. It was a completely pointless thing to do when they had a confession but Grissom insisted on being thorough.

"I'm done," she called over to him. "Can we go yet?" She sounded about three years old but she didn't really care.

"Okay," Grissom conceded and then suddenly he was standing over her with that same nervous expression he'd worn when asking her out the night before. "So," he said. "Do you have plans after work today?"

Sara stood up so she was on an equal footing with him. "Why are you doing this?" she asked.

Grissom looked pained. "Doing what?"

"Don't play dumb, Grissom, it doesn't suit you. Why are you asking me out?"

Grissom straightened his shoulders. "We're both single. We get along. You've made it clear you're interested in me. Why wouldn't I ask you out?"

Sara had to bite back a sarcastic response about him being about six months late. "Grissom, do you know where I was born?" she said instead.

Grissom looked surprised. "San Francisco," he replied, with a frown.

"No," Sara said. "I'm from Tamales Bay, about an hour and a half outside of 'Frisco. What's my mother's name?"

Grissom shook his head. "I don't know."

"It's Mary. Where does my brother live?" Grissom once again shook his head dumbly. "He moved to Australia two years ago," Sara supplied, feeling things click into place inside her, finally.

"I don't understand, Sara," Grissom said.

Sara smiled slightly. "No, you don't do you?" she said. "I'm not trying to trick you. I'm just asking you some very basic, simple things about me - and I guarantee you every other CSI on grave knows those three things I asked, because I've mentioned them several times in front of all of you. You're great at figuring out crime scenes, Gris, but when it comes to people you're a little less observant. You don't really know anything about me, do you?"

"What if I want to find out?" he said softly.

Sara looked away with a rueful smile. In her mind's eye she could see what a relationship with Grissom would be like - quiet evenings listening to Mozart and Beethoven, going to art house movies with subtitles, reading forensics books in bed. Cold distance and silence. And then there was Catherine who didn't know the meaning of the word distant. Going out for ice cream with Catherine and Lindsey, seeing trashy movies and snuggling in the back row, singing along to 70s rock in the car - suddenly she wanted all those things with an almost physical pain.

She looked back at Grissom, expecting to feel something and surprised when she didn't. Her love for him - and it had been love, once - had been rejected six months ago. She'd spent the time since then trying to drown her feelings in the bottom of a bottle. Now she was looking for them again and discovering that she had succeeded - they were dead. The pain she'd been trying to dull was grief for the loss of those emotions - but it was grief for the idea of love, not the love itself. That had never got off the ground. There was something else coming alive inside her now. But not for Grissom - for Catherine.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Really, Grissom. But there's someone else."

Grissom looked stunned. Clearly this was something he'd never considered. "Oh," he said. And that said it all.

"Yeah," Sara murmured. Suddenly she wanted to see Catherine more than she'd ever wanted anything. "No hard feelings?" she said, awkwardly extending her hand. He shook it, flashing her a small smile.

"Of course not," he said. "You deserve to be happy, Sara."

Sara looked away with a smile. For the first time in what seemed like forever, she actually believed that herself.

* * * * *

Sara and Grissom went their separate ways when they returned to the lab, about half an hour before the end of shift. Grissom announced his intention to fill out the paperwork on the bakery arson while Sara hurried off to find Catherine. The look in the other woman's eyes as she left with Grissom had been haunting Sara and she needed to find her to reassure her that everything was all right.

Her desk was deserted, as was the break room and all the usual labs. She'd seen her car in the parking lot on the way in so she knew Catherine was still around.

"Hey," she said, ducking her head into the DNA lab. "Have you seen Catherine?"

Greg looked up with a twinkle in his eye. "Well, if it isn't Mrs. Grissom," he said, smirking.

Sara rolled her eyes. "Have you seen her or not, Greg?"

Greg shrugged. "What's it worth to you?" Sara shot him a threatening glare. He held up his hands. "Hey, a cop buddy of mine was at your scene tonight.” He waggled his eyebrows. “He said Grissom asked you out. Are you two dating now?"

Sara narrowed her eyes. "No," she ground out. Greg took the hint.

"I saw her go into the ladies' room about twenty minutes ago. She's been in and out of there all night."

Sara frowned. "Is she sick?"

Greg shook his head as he returned his attention to his microscope. "No. She seemed upset actually, but she didn't want to talk about it."

Sara cringed. "Upset?" she said in a small voice.

Greg looked up. "Yeah. Not in floods of tears or anything, but definitely distracted."

Sara cursed inwardly. "Thanks, Greg," she said and turned to leave.

"Hey wait!" Greg stood and brought her over a printout. "I got your results. The human blood on the knife belongs to your vic, and it matches the blood on the shirt. I also found skin cells on the shirt and they belong to your suspect." He smiled. "I believe this is what they call a slam dunk."

Sara took the printout with a wide smile. "All we have to do is find him," she replied, clapping him on the shoulder. "You're the man, Greg. Thanks." Greg beamed with pride as Sara headed off to the ladies' room in search of Catherine.

Catherine was in the middle of splashing water on her face when Sara came in. "Hey, Cat," she said. Catherine glanced over as she reached for a paper towel.

"Hey," she said, rubbing her face dry. Her eyes were red and Sara could tell she had been crying.

"I just spoke to Greg. Looks like we've got a slam dunk on the Roberts case."

Catherine managed a small smile. "That's great. How was your 402?"

"Textbook arson," Sara said, taking a step closer and leaning against the door of a stall. "Grissom made me collect samples for hours though."

"He was probably just enjoying your company," Catherine replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Sara raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

"I turned him down again," she said.

Catherine looked up sharply. "Huh?"

Sara took another step closer. "He asked me out again," she said. "But I told him there was someone else."

Catherine's breath caught in her throat. "Really?" Her voice was a throaty shadow of its former self.

"Really," Sara whispered and took another step so she could sweep Catherine up in her arms.

Catherine buried her head in Sara's neck, feeling fresh tears collect in her eyes. She blinked them away furiously. Her fists were grasping the back of Sara's shirt as her arms crushed the brunette against her in an almost painful grip. Sara was running her fingers through Catherine's hair and dropping occasional kisses onto her forehead.

"I can't believe you're really choosing me," Catherine murmured into Sara's soft skin.

Sara shook her head minutely. "I told you I'd give up all my self-destructive habits. Smoking, drinking - and pining after Gil Grissom." She let out a short laugh. "Can you imagine me and him together?"

"I'm trying not to," Catherine replied, gripping Sara slightly tighter.

Sara nudged Catherine's chin up and captured her lips in a brief kiss. "He and I are too alike," she said when they parted. "Being with him would drive me crazy - crazier." She smiled softly. "You and I compliment each other in ways Grissom and I never could. Being with you is like..." she trailed off, struggling for a comparison. "It's like coming up for air," she continued finally. "You're the one who makes me happy. So what choice did I have, really?"

Catherine answered her with a kiss that was both loving and heated, and completely inappropriate for a public restroom in the CSI lab where absolutely anyone could walk in. They were lucky though and remained uninterrupted.

Sara cleared her throat slightly as they parted and looked down into hooded blue eyes. "So," she said softly. "I was wondering if you'd care to join me for dinner this evening. I was thinking Italian...candlelight...non-alcoholic grape juice." She smiled. "What do you say?"

Catherine kissed Sara again, softly and sweetly. "Yes," she whispered against her lips. "I'd love to go to dinner with you."

Sara ducked her head, grinning madly. "Okay then. I'll make the reservation and you can pick me up around sixish?"

"I'll be there," Catherine replied, nuzzling into her favourite patch of soft skin in the crook of Sara's neck.

* * * * *

Sara dropped her keys on the table by the door and flopped heavily onto the couch. It had been a long, emotionally draining night. Still, she couldn't help but smile as she recalled the deeply pleasurable sensation of being in Catherine's arms. Her fingers drifted to her lips and her eyes flickered closed. If she concentrated she could almost feel Catherine's lips pressed against hers. She suppressed a moan as a flicker of heat lit up in the pit of her stomach.

With a smile plastered across her face, Sara stood up and headed for the bedroom, shedding her jacket and shirt as she went. She shrugged into the nightshirt she'd worn with Catherine the day before and stepped out of her jeans, climbing into bed. The bedding still smelled like Catherine and she wrapped her arms round one of the pillows, breathing deeply. Her eyes drifted closed.

An hour later she was still tossing and turning. She sat up and ran a trembling hand through her hair. It suddenly seemed very important that she hadn't had a drink for twenty-four hours. She hadn't gone this long in...four, five months? She knew of at least one bottle Catherine had missed, and it was right here in the bedroom. Would it really be so bad if she had a little something, just to calm her down so she could sleep?

Yes, it would, she answered herself a second later. She was going on a date with Catherine later and she wasn't going to show up to it drunk.

She padded through to the living room to retrieve her cordless phone and address book. She really wanted to call Catherine but she also didn't want to seem too pathetic and needy. So, she crawled back into bed and looked up her brother's number.

The phone rang four times before it was answered. "Hello?" came a sleepy voice.

"Hey, Luke," said Sara. "It's me."

"Sara? What's wrong? Is it Mom and Dad?"

Sara frowned. "No, nothing's wrong. I just wanted to talk."

"Sara..." he sighed. "It's three am."

Sara slapped her hand against her forehead. "Oh shit, I'm sorry Luke. I wasn't thinking." She cursed herself silently. If it was eight am on Sunday in Nevada then it was three am on Monday in Melbourne - she knew that, and should have remembered. "I'll let you get back to sleep."

"No, wait." Sara could hear the rustling of bedclothes and a lamp being switched on. "I haven't talked to you in months and I'm awake now."

Sara hesitated. It was true she hadn't called him since Christmas but she felt guilty about waking him in the middle of the night. "Are you sure?" she asked uncertainly.

"Absolutely," he replied firmly and Sara smiled.

"Okay. You do anything interesting today?"

"Yeah, actually. I took Lisa and Jamie up to Healesville for the day."

Sara grinned. "Taking your girlfriend and her little boy to the zoo on Sunday? You're such a good daddy."

"Hey, Lisa hasn't definitely given me the job yet," Luke replied with a small chuckle.

"She will, I guarantee it." For a moment she thought about Catherine and Lindsey. She wondered if Lindsey liked her.

"So...you put away any dangerous criminals this week?"

Sara thought about Andy Green, still at large. She didn't like to talk to her family about her more gruesome cases so she launched into the story of her bakery arson instead.

Luke laughed. "Sara Sidle: keeping the world safe for insurance companies everywhere!"

Sara smirked. "Screw you," she said playfully.

"No thanks, that would be incest," he replied, a smile in his voice. Sara stuck out her tongue.

"Gross," she said. There was a slight pause.

"So, how are things going with you and this Grissom guy?" Luke asked carefully. Sara shook her head even though he couldn't see her.

"Never going to happen," she replied.

"You okay?"

"Yeah...I am, actually. I mean...I was the one who decided it wasn't going anywhere, not him."

"That's my girl."

Sarah frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Come on babe, I've been trying to tell you for years that this guy's no good for you. You need someone who knows how to have fun."

Sara raised an eyebrow and sank further into her pillows. "Are you implying that I don't know how to have fun?"

"Yes."

Sara tried to be offended but just ended up laughing. She was glad she'd called Luke. "If you really want to know," she said, "I'm going on a date tonight with someone else."

"Oooh. Someone from work?"

"Where else?"

"Okay, let me guess." There was a pause as he considered his choices. "Catherine?"

Sara did a quick double take. "How the hell did you know that?"

She had to pull the phone a few inches away from her ear as Luke let out a whoop of victory. "Yes, Sara, way to go!"

"Thanks," she said. "Seriously, how did you know?"

Luke sighed in exasperation. "Come on baby sister, d'you really think you've been fooling me? Ever since you started working at that place it's been Catherine this, Catherine that. Even when you were obsessing over your boss she was still in there. Remember the last time you forgot the time difference and called me in the middle of the night?"

Sara frowned. "No..."

"I do. Vividly. It was after some case to do with her ex-husband's murder that you couldn't solve. Remember how she tore you a new one and you spent three hours on the phone with me crying your heart out? Is this ringing any bells?"

Sara felt her jaw drop slightly. He was right. "Wow," she murmured. "She's always been there, hasn't she?"

"Well, if I noticed..."

Sara shook herself. "Okay, that's enough about my love life. Tell me about Lisa."

They talked easily for another hour or so until Sara was yawning too often to keep up the conversation. "Want me to sing you a lullaby?" Luke asked teasingly.

"Hmm, no, I think I can live without that."

He chuckled softly. "I'm glad you woke me up," he said gently.

"Mmm," Sara replied sleepily, feeling her eyes drift closed. "Love ya, bro."

"Love ya more, sis. Good luck on your hot date."

Sara smiled and clicked the phone off. She was asleep in moments.

* * * * *

Catherine slept fitfully through the morning, feeling like a kid on Christmas Eve waiting for Santa to come, and got up around one thirty to fix Lindsey something for lunch. She found her daughter watching TV in the living room. "You'll get square eyes," she said, running a hand over the top of her head.

"I asked my teacher and she said that's not true," Lindsey replied, not even glancing up from the Nickelodeon channel.

Catherine shook her head as she wandered into the kitchen. "Teachers," she grumbled. To Lindsey she called: "What do you want for lunch?"

"McDonalds!" came the immediate reply. Catherine felt her stomach turn slightly as she remembered her earlier visit to the slaughter-house.

"No, Lindsey," she said firmly.

"Mac and cheese, then," Lindsey said, and Catherine turned round to find her hanging in the doorway.

Catherine smiled. "That's more like it," she said and turned to the cabinet to gather her ingredients. Little feet ran back to the TV. Twenty minutes later Catherine was spooning pasta onto two plates, adding tomato and pepper to hers, leaving Lindsey's plain. "Lunch is ready," she called.

"Can I have it in the living room, mommy?"

Catherine ducked her head into the living room. "Uh, uh, you know the rule. We eat at the table in this house." Lindsey trailed into the kitchen reluctantly and bolted her food. "You'll get a stomach ache," Catherine admonished. Lindsey rolled her eyes as she finished eating and disappeared back into the living room.

After the dishes were washed and put away Catherine headed for the shower. She found herself singing as she lathered her hair and laughed out loud.  _ I'm going on a date with Sara _ , she kept repeating in her mind. A wave of giddiness passed through her, and she spent ten minutes debating with herself over whether to wax her legs. In the end she decided that she would.

Still humming softly under her breath she wrapped up her hair in a towel and pulled on a robe. Lindsey was sitting on her bed when she wandered back into the bedroom. "Hey baby," she said with a smile, rubbing at her damp hair.

"Aunt Nancy said I had to go round to her house early tonight."

"That's right. I'll drop you off at about five thirty." She sat down at her dressing table, looking at Lindsey in the mirror.

"Why?"

Catherine smiled slowly. "I'm having dinner with Sara before I go to work."

Lindsey lit up at the mention of Sara's name. "Sara? Can't I come too, mommy?"

Catherine had to bite her tongue to suppress her laughter. She was way beyond the desire for ten year old chaperones. "Maybe next time, baby," she said as she stood up, heading for her closet. She pulled out two dresses, one black, the other a deep midnight blue. "Which dress do you think I should wear tonight?"

Lindsey looked them both up and down, brow furrowed in confusion. "Sara doesn't care what you wear," she said seriously.

Catherine smiled. "You're probably right, but I do. I want to look nice tonight."

Lindsey considered her options carefully. "Okay...the blue one."

Catherine looked down at the dress with a pleased expression. It was sleeveless and backless and showed just the right amount of cleavage. It had been the one she'd favoured herself. "I think you're right," she said. With that she settled down for an afternoon of meticulous grooming. She had to laugh at herself. She hadn't spent so long preparing for a date since she was a teenager. Sara made her feel like that though - like everything was new and fresh and filled with infinite possibilities.

For three and a half years her analytical mind had tried to quantify and catalogue exactly what it was about Sara she found so attractive. The woman was a mass of contradictions - arrogant yet shy, devastatingly intelligent yet completely lacking in common sense, breathtakingly beautiful and still painfully self-conscious. Eventually Catherine had to admit that she loved everything about Sara, even the things that drove her crazy. Maybe especially the things that drove her crazy. At least with Sara Catherine knew she'd never be bored.

Finally, at about quarter to five, Catherine slipped into the silky blue dress Lindsey had picked out and began to apply her make-up. She didn't go overboard, remembering that she'd have to go to work later.

"Lindsey?" she called as she hesitated over her jewellery. The little girl came running in, skidding to a halt in the doorway.

"Yes, mommy?"

Catherine smiled down at her and held out her jewellery box. "How would you like to pick out what earrings I should wear?" she said. Lindsey's eyes lit up and she fell on the box with glee. After a moment she picked out a pair of simple diamond earrings and a matching pendant. Catherine smiled. "Good choice," she said, running her hand over her daughter's hair. "And should I wear my hair down or up?"

Lindsey frowned. "Sara likes it up, I think."

Catherine looked down in surprise. "Really. How do you know that?"

"You wore it up when we went to the movies with her. She was staring at you."

Catherine's heart performed an impressive leap and she smiled. "You're very observant," she said to Lindsey and shooed her out of the room, instructing her to get ready to go. She put her hair up in a simple French twist and selected a pair of shoes from her extensive selection. Then she picked out a set of work clothes to change into later and packed them into a small bag.

Lindsey was waiting by the door with her overnight bag clutched in her hands. Catherine performed a small twirl. "Do I look okay?"

"You're beautiful, mommy," Lindsey replied seriously. Catherine beamed at her and leaned down for a hug and a kiss.

"I love you, baby," she murmured into her ear. Lindsey giggled.

"Tickles," she said, squirming a little. Catherine stood up and ushered her daughter out of the door and into the waiting car.

Thirty minutes later Lindsey had been safely deposited at Nancy's and Catherine was on her way to Sara's. She hadn't felt this nervous since...well, ever, actually. Most women would say that their wedding day was the most nerve-wracking day of their life but Catherine had been slightly...very...under the influence when she'd tied the knot with Eddie in a little place off the Strip, all those years ago. She hadn't felt the nervousness beforehand - just the regret afterwards.

Almost before she knew it Catherine was pulling up outside Sara's building. The clock told her she was five minutes early and she debated with herself for a moment if she should go up straight away or wait. Eventually she shook herself. "You're not a kid anymore, Cathy," she whispered to herself as she stepped out of her car. Arriving at Sara's door, she knocked quickly, before she had a chance to get nervous again and change her mind.

* * * * *

Sara stopped to fix her hair in the mirror before she answered the door, feeling slightly foolish but unable to stop herself. Catherine had already seen her at her absolute lowest, after all. She wasn't likely to be put off if Sara had a hair out of place. But the impulse to be perfect wouldn't be squelched by something so mundane as logic. It was the same impulse that had seen her rooting through her closet for a solid hour, looking for a killer outfit. Now that Catherine was at her door she began to panic again, worried that she'd made the wrong choice. She ran a critical eye over her leather pants and simple tailored white shirt, beginning to wish she'd worn something else. But it was too late - Catherine was knocking again and she had to answer.

Her breath caught in her throat as she opened the door. "Catherine..." she managed to croak out, trailing her hungry eyes over the feast before her.

"Sara," Catherine replied, her voice husky. Her arms slid round Sara's waist as she stepped inside the apartment, kicking the door shut behind her. "You look gorgeous."

Sara looked down at her outfit and felt distinctly underdressed. "I would have worn a dress," she explained. "But I don't own one."

Catherine laughed. "Baby, I wouldn't change a thing. You're utterly breathtaking."

Sara blushed and smiled. "So are you," she said, running her fingertips down the raised curve of Catherine's spine. Catherine shivered slightly. "Cold?"

"Not at all," Catherine breathed, taking Sara's face in her hands and showing her just how hot she really was. Her hands sifted through Sara's hair as they kissed. "I love your hair when it's curly," Catherine whispered against Sara's lips.

"I love your hair when it's up," Sara replied, snatching another kiss. Catherine chuckled under her breath.

"So I've been told," she said, and pulled Sara towards her again. Sara was struggling for breath when her lips were released.

"Kiss me like that again and we might never leave this apartment," she warned.

"Mmm." Catherine trailed her lips over Sara's cheek and down to her throat. "That would be bad."

"Yes...mmm...that would be..." Sara forgot what she was saying when Catherine nipped at her thundering pulse point. Her hands slid down to Catherine's hips, fingers curling around Catherine's waist and gripping tightly. And then, abruptly, Catherine pulled back, an evil glint in her eye.

"So, shall we go?" she said, smiling at the flushed and breathless brunette.

Sara took a moment to get her bearings then looked the other woman square in the eye. "You," she said slowly and deliberately. "Are a tease, Catherine Willows."

"That's as may be, but we do have reservations."

Sara conceded the point and stepped back a few paces. "Yes. So you'd better go out to the car before I forget all about dinner and just carry you through to the bedroom."

Catherine raised her eyebrows at Sara as she passed. "Mmm. I'll remember that for later."

Sara grabbed her jacket and followed Catherine out of the apartment, sliding her hand into Catherine's when she caught up to her, about halfway down the stairs.

"Where did you make reservations?" Catherine asked when they were in the car.

"Little place called La Fiorentina, not far from here," Sara replied, turning the ignition and flicking on the radio. The local country station blared from the speakers and Catherine covered her ears.

"Oh my God, please don't tell me you like country," she said. Sara laughed, and turned down the volume a little.

"What's wrong with country?" she asked, shooting a glance over at Catherine as she changed gears.

Catherine shook her head. "I may have to rethink this whole relationship now," she said, but with a smile to let Sara know she wasn't serious.

They drove the short distance to the restaurant to the sound of Johnny Cash, Catherine studying Sara's profile as she drove. "See something interesting?" Sara joked, looking over at her as she pulled into a parking space.

Catherine smiled. "Yes," she said. "You."

Sara blushed lightly. "I'm nothing special," she said.

Catherine reached out and twined her fingers with Sara's. "Yes you are," she said softly, blue eyes boring into brown. Impulsively Sara leaned in and pressed their lips together.

"You make me feel it," she whispered. Then she pulled away and jumped out of the car, coming round to the passenger side and opening the door for her date. She held out her arm and smiled. "Shall we?"

Catherine accepted Sara's arm graciously and allowed herself to be led into the restaurant, which was already more than half full with diners. "Popular place," Catherine commented.

"Yeah, it's supposed to be really good," Sara replied, smiling at an approaching waiter. "Hi - reservation for Sidle?"

The waiter checked his book then smiled and led them to a table in the non-smoking section. The restaurant was dimly lit by candlelight and had soft violin music playing in the background. "You wearing your patch?" Catherine asked as the waiter held out her chair for her.

Sara patted her upper arm as she sat down. "Sure am."

The waiter handed them two menus. "May I show you the wine list?" he asked.

Sara froze but Catherine smiled up at him, completely unphased. "No thank you," she declined smoothly. "But we'd like a bottle of your best grape juice."

Sara let out a shaky breath when he was gone. "I almost forgot he'd ask that," she said. Catherine reached out and twined their fingers together.

"Don't worry about it," she said softly. "Don't even think about it."

Sara nodded and looked up into shining blue eyes. "You're right," she said, squeezing Catherine's fingers gently. "I have better things to think about now."

Catherine smiled and looked down at her menu, leaving their fingers tangled together on the tabletop. The waiter returned after a few minutes to take their orders.

"So," Catherine said when they were alone again. "Talk to me. Tell me something else about you."

Sara's lips curled upwards slightly. "Like what?"

"Anything."

"I think you believe I'm far more interesting than I really am," Sara replied.

Catherine shook her head. "You're fascinating," she said. "And I want to know everything about you."

Sara looked down bashfully. "I'm not used to talking about myself," she admitted. "You'll have to give me a starting point."

Catherine smiled indulgently. "Okay then. Tell me what you do for fun. Other than listening to your police scanner."

"Photography," Sara replied. "And stargazing. Sometimes at the same time."

"You take pictures of stars?"

Sara nodded. "I sometimes drive into the desert and set up my telescope out there. My camera has an attachment that lets me take pictures through the telescope lens - I've gotten some good shots that way." She glanced up, taking in Catherine's look of surprise. "What?"

Catherine shrugged with a bashful smile. "I just was kind of expecting you to say 'nothing'."

Sara smiled back. "I would have, a year ago," she said. "But I've been kind of trying to get a life." She paused, frowning a little. "Actually, I haven't been out in a while," she said. "I think I last took a picture when I was out in Australia with my brother in August." She smiled at the memory. "We went up into the Northern Territory to get away from the cold down south. I got some great pictures of the Southern Cross." She shook her head. "Man, I really have to get my camera out again."

Catherine stroked Sara's hand softly. "Maybe you could take me out with you sometime," she said quietly. Sara looked up.

"I'd love to," she said, and broke into a grin.

They passed a pleasant ten minutes in small talk until the waiter returned with their food and they were forced to disentangle their hands. Sara took a fork and dug into her pasta. "Mmm," she moaned under her breath. "This is really good." She held out her fork to Catherine. "Here, try it."

Catherine leaned forward with a small smile and took Sara's fork into her mouth, swirling her tongue over it until she'd licked it clean. Sara's breath hitched in her throat. "God," she murmured. "You can make anything sexy."

Catherine laughed. "That's how I used to make my living, remember?" she said.

"If you'd stuck with it you'd be a millionaire," Sara replied. Catherine blushed and looked down.

"You want some of this?" she asked, gesturing to her plate. Sara shook her head.

"You ordered fish," she said. "I'm a vegetarian, remember?"

Catherine frowned. "I thought vegetarians could eat fish," she said.

Sara shrugged. "Some do, some don't. Personally I don't eat anything that used to have a heartbeat."

Catherine looked down at her fish and seemed to consider something. Then she shrugged. "Ah hell," she said. "I'll go veggie  _ after _ I finish this."

Sara grinned as she took a sip of her grape juice. "So," she said. "I've told you about me - it's your turn."

Catherine smiled and started to tell Sara about growing up on her parents' ranch in Montana. Catherine could ride before she could walk but she only ever used horses as a way to escape out into the plains for a while. She hated the physicality of ranch work, and she hated being around her parents because they always fought. Her father especially was cold to her. She didn't understand it at the time - now that she knew about Sam Braun, though, it had all become clear. She'd fled the ranch the minute she turned sixteen, returning briefly the next year when her boyfriend dumped her for another woman. Vegas was her next stop and she'd been there ever since.

"Pretty boring life story, huh?" Catherine quipped, her throat feeling a little strained from the sustained talking. She looked down at her plate, surprised to discover that she'd managed to finish her meal while she was talking.

"Hardly," Sara replied. "But that was the abridged version - I want to hear the whole thing."

Catherine smirked. "It's your turn again," she said.

"Oh, keeping tabs are we?" Sara laughed. "Okay, have it your way." She was about to tell Catherine about growing up in her parents' B&B back in California but the waiter interrupted.

"Was everything to your satisfaction, ladies?" he asked as he collected their empty plates.

"Yes, thanks," Catherine replied, smiling.

"Would you like to see the dessert menu?"

Sara looked down at her watch and was shocked to discover that it was already after seven. "We don't really have time, Cat," she said apologetically.

"Just the check please," Catherine said. The waiter returned a few moments later with the bill. Catherine reached for her purse but Sara stayed her hand.

"Hey, I asked _ you _ out," she said.

"I know, but I want to," Catherine replied.

Sara shook her head. "You bought me dinner last time," she said.

"Huh?"

"The other night at Joey's."

Catherine sat back in her seat. "Was that really only two nights ago?" She shook her head. "Feels like longer."

Sara smiled slowly. "Catherine, it already seems like another life." She dropped a few bills onto the table, making sure to leave a decent tip. Catherine stood up and grabbed her hand.

"Outside," she said shortly. Sara grinned as she allowed herself to be dragged from the restaurant and then crushed into the other woman's embrace when they were out in the cooling night air.

"Catherine?"

Catherine tightened her grip, nuzzling into Sara's hair. "You're mine," she murmured, her voice tinged with wonder. "You're actually mine."

Sara smiled and pressed a tender kiss to Catherine's temple. "For as long as you want me."

Right at that moment Catherine thought that might just be forever, but she resisted the temptation to say it out loud. Instead she threaded her fingers through Sara's hair and pulled her down for a kiss that was supposed to be sweet and gentle. Sara had other ideas, her tongue tracing over Catherine's lower lip insistently, demanding entrance. Catherine was gasping and flushed when they parted. "Let's call in sick," she said, her voice little more than a throaty groan.

"Both of us?" Sara murmured. "Wouldn't they get suspicious?"

"Let them," Catherine replied, capturing Sara's lips with her own once more. "They can all stew in their own jealousy for all I care."

Sara laughed and gently disentangled herself from Catherine's embrace. "You know we can't," she said, taking a step towards the car. Catherine crossed her arms and pouted, but followed nevertheless.

Back at Sara's apartment Catherine went into the bathroom to get changed. Her jewellery went first, then she unpinned her hair and shook it out over her shoulders. She felt sad about taking off the dress - it seemed such a waste to be undressing and not going to bed with Sara. When she was in her work clothes she put her dress on a wire hanger and hung it up in Sara's closet.

"Cat?"

Catherine spun round and blinked as a bright light flashed in her face. Sara was hanging in the door frame, smiling and holding what looked like a very expensive camera.

Catherine smiled slowly "What was that all about?" she asked.

Sara shrugged. "Just getting used to using the camera again," she said. "Also..." She trailed off and let out a small self deprecating laugh.

"What, baby?"

"It's silly."

Catherine cocked her head. "Nothing you could possibly be feeling would seem silly to me," she said sincerely.

Sara looked up and locked their eyes together. "If I take your picture I can keep you forever," she murmured, blushing.

Catherine's face slowly lit up as the explanation sunk in and she walked over to stand in front of Sara, resting her hands on the other woman's hips. "Sweetheart, you don't need a photograph to do that." Sara managed a small smile and then her lips were otherwise occupied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooooow, I forgot how sickly sweet this entire section was, lol.


	4. Chapter 4

Catherine and Sara arrived in the break room fifteen minutes late, both slightly flushed and trying not to giggle like teenagers. Nick and Warrick looked at them quizzically. "What's got into you two?" Nick drawled.

Sara smiled. "We're happy, Nicky boy, as crazy as that may sound."

The mood was infectious, spreading first to Nick, then to Warrick who both broke into smiles. "Nothing crazy about it," Nick said. "Just unusual for you recently."

Sara reached out and rubbed his perfectly gelled hair, ruining the style, and shot a sideways glance at Catherine. "Better get used to it," she said. Nick frantically tried to smooth his hair back into place, and was still preoccupied with this when Grissom came in with the assignment slips.

"Welcome back, Warrick," he said, walking over to the coffee machine. "Have a good weekend?"

"Yeah, I hit a few jazz clubs, went to a ball game - just chilled, you know?"

"Well, I hope you're well rested," Grissom replied, handing him a slip.

Warrick groaned. "Double homicide?"

Grissom cocked his head and smiled. "Twice the fun. Take Nicky with you. And Greg."

Sara raised an eyebrow. "You sure Greg's up to something like that?"

Grissom turned to her but didn't quite meet her eyes. "The best way to learn to swim is to be thrown in at the deep end."

Catherine shook her head. "Uh, no Grissom, that's the best way to give someone a lifelong fear of water," she scoffed.

"Best he should find out if he's not suited to the job now, before we waste a lot of the department's money training him. I think he'll be fine."

Sara shrugged. "You're the boss," she conceded.

"Yes I am." Grissom turned his attention to Catherine. "You and I have a DB in Freemont," he said, not noticing that Catherine had stiffened slightly at the prospect of working with him.

"What if Andy Green is brought in?" she asked.

"Sara'll be here. She can call you."

Sara raised an eyebrow. "I'll be here? How come?"

Grissom looked back to her and this time he did manage to look her in the eye. "I was going through my records for the last few weeks," he said. "You owe me three case reports so no more field work until I get them."

Warrick and Nick shot her sympathetic smiles as they filed out of the door, heading for their assignment. "I cannot believe you're sticking me behind a desk," Sara grumbled, shooting Grissom an accusatory glare. He shrugged as he made for the door.

"If you work fast it might only be for tonight," he said.

When Grissom had gone, Catherine came up behind Sara and ran her hand through her hair. "Never mind, sweetie," she said. "At least you don't have to work with Grissom."

Sara looked up. "I chose you, remember? You and Grissom have been friends longer than I've been around - don't let me ruin that for you."

Catherine shook her head. "I'll be fine," she said. "As long as he keeps his eyes off you."

Sara laughed softly and took Catherine's hand. "I love you when you're possessive."

"I love you all the time."

A strange silence descended over them as Catherine's words hung in the air. Sara looked down at their linked hands and frowned.

"I'm sorry," Catherine said, her face pale. "I didn't mean to say that."

Sara looked up sharply. "Are you taking it back?"

Catherine shook her head. "No," she said. "I just don't want to scare you off."

Sara dropped Catherine's hand and stood up, wrapping her arms around her. "Never happen," she assured her firmly. "You just surprised me, baby."

Catherine sighed in relief and draped her arms round Sara's shoulders. "So you're okay?"

Sara smiled. "The most beautiful woman in the world just told me she loves me," she said. "Why wouldn't I be okay?"

Catherine pulled Sara down for a kiss, not caring that they were in the middle of the break room where anyone could walk in. Sara kissed her back briefly and then pulled away.

"You'd better go to your assignment before I lay you down and ravish you right here," she whispered.

Catherine growled under her breath and her eyes lit up. "The way I'm feeling right now I don't think I'd object."

Sara laughed and pushed her towards the door. "Go on. Work."

When she was gone Sara took a deep breath to collect herself and then headed for her desk. None of the junior CSIs had offices but they'd all appropriated the desks in certain labs to do their paperwork. It seemed like there was more and more of that as the years went on, and they'd all demanded offices of their own at one time or another. Privately Sara thought that The Powers That Be had probably taken one look at Grissom's office and decided that CSIs couldn't be trusted not to turn a room into a house of horrors.

After an hour of brain-numbing tedium Sara returned to the break room for more coffee. She was surprised to find Brass there, sitting at the table and eating something large and fattening.

"Sidle," he said, swallowing a mouthful of his burger. "I was just about to page you. I just got a call from Carson City PD - they picked up your suspect about two hours ago."

"Carson City?" Sara repeated as she sat down. "Shit. The bastard was less than an hour from the state line."

Brass took another large bite of burger and nodded. "Lucky we got him before he made it to California," he mumbled with his mouth full. "Too much red tape otherwise."

Sara nodded in agreement and took a sip of her coffee. "How long till he's back in Vegas?"

Brass wiped his greasy hands on a napkin and looked at his watch. "Just under five hours," he said. "Are you and Catherine coming in for the interrogation?"

"Oh yeah," Sara confirmed. They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Sara cleared her throat. "Listen, Brass-"

"You know what, you don't need to say anything," Brass interrupted. "I jumped to conclusions-"

"No, you were right," Sara said, before she could change her mind. "You were right."

Brass sat back and looked at her contemplatively. "Okay. So what are you going to do about it?"

Sara smiled. "No, you don't get it, I'm okay now. I've stopped drinking and got rid of all my booze. I'm fine."

Brass raised an eyebrow. "Just like that?"

Sara nodded. "Yeah. It's easy."

Brass looked at her doubtfully but let it pass. "So," he said. "When did it all start?"

"The explosion," Sara replied immediately, then frowned. Now that she thought about it, Grissom's rejection hadn't been the first time she'd turned to alcohol to forget her problems. She'd gone out and gotten completely hammered after she'd dumped Hank, but that didn't count, did it? She'd been with Catherine, after all. But then...there were times before that - all those cases that had gotten under her skin...hadn't her first impulse always been to dive into a bottle and forget about it? All the times she'd woken up in a cold sweat, nightmares still flashing behind her eyes, hadn't she turned to the bottle a little too easily, a little too often?

Brass frowned. "Sara?" he said.

Sara snapped her attention back to him. "The explosion," she repeated firmly. "That's when it started."

Brass held up his hands. "Okay," he said. "I believe you. And when was your last drink?"

"Thirty-six hours," she replied immediately, only then realising that she'd been keeping track.

Brass nodded. "That's good, Sara, really good. But...you can't just give up on an impulse and say you're fine. Alcoholism is a disease - it doesn't get cured in a day and a half."

Sara smiled and shook her head. "I'm not an alcoholic, Jim," she said. "I admit I had a little problem for a while but it's over now. I'm fine."

Brass looked at her sceptically. "Sidle-"

"No," she insisted, standing up. "I'm fine." She turned her back on him and stalked back to her desk, feeling her previous good mood slipping. Had she ever asked for Brass's opinion? Why did he have to keep sticking his nose into her business?

She sat back down at her desk, shaking herself. So what if the drinking had started before the thing with Grissom? It didn't get out of control until after he'd shot her down, and that meant he was the reason. And she was over him now. She was happy. She had Catherine. Catherine was going to keep her afloat - she'd promised.

"She promised," Sara whispered to herself, and tried to concentrate again on her paperwork.

* * * * *

Catherine got her page in the middle of talking to Doc Robbins about the unidentified DB she and Grissom had been working on. "Sorry, Doc," she said. "The suspect in the Roberts case just arrived at the PD - have to go and interview him."

"I'll leave my report on your desk," he said to her retreating back.

She flashed a smile over her shoulder as she swung open the door. "Thanks, Doc."

Upstairs, Sara was nowhere to be found. The break room was empty, as was the lab where Sara usually did paperwork. She wasn't in the locker room or the bathroom either.

"Catherine?"

Catherine spun round to see Greg sticking his head out of the DNA lab. "Yeah?"

"Sara told me to tell you she'd meet you at the PD," he said.

Catherine rolled her eyes, wishing he'd told her that before she'd practically searched the whole building for Sara. She managed a smile for him nevertheless. "Thanks, Greg."

Catherine hurried to her car and managed the short distance to the PD in record time. She found Sara looking through the two-way mirror next to the first interrogation room.

"Sorry," Catherine whispered, mindful of the interrogation going on a few short feet away. "Have you been here long?"

Sara shook her head and reached out for Catherine as she approached. Catherine was pleasantly surprised when she found herself wrapped in Sara's strong arms and held tightly.

"I missed you," Sara murmured, kissing the top of her head.

"I missed you too, baby," Catherine replied softly, pulling her head back and looking up into Sara's face with a concerned frown. "Are you okay?"

Sara smiled. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

Catherine decided not to press the issue. "Okay," she said. "You ready to go in?" Sara nodded somewhat reluctantly and released her.

The first thing that struck Catherine about Andy Green was that he looked so  _ normal _ . He was just a run-of-the-mill blue collar guy. Everything about him - from his short brown hair, to his medium build to his average height - just screamed 'ordinary' - other than the scratch marks on his neck which Catherine duly took note of as she sat down. It was amazing how many brutal murderers looked like anyone you could pass on the street. Scary too.

"Mr Green," Catherine said. "I'm Catherine Willows, this is Sara Sidle. We're from the Crime Lab - we'll be sitting in on your interrogation."

"What the fuck's a Crime Lab?" Andy Green said gruffly.

Sara's eyes bored into him. Could there really be a person living and breathing who didn't know about forensics? "It's where we analyse the scientific evidence left behind at crime scenes," she said, and sat down next to Catherine, crossing her legs.

Green scoffed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Brass leaned over the table. "In your case, buddy, it means you're screwed."

"That's enough, Detective - perhaps you've heard of a little thing called 'innocent until proven guilty?" 

Sara looked over at the lawyer. She was young and earnest - probably new to the job. Sara wondered if she'd still defend the guy once she found out just how much evidence was stacked up against him.

"Forensic evidence relies on a very simple fact," Catherine said, turning to their suspect. "You can't go anywhere without leaving a piece of yourself behind. Be it a fingerprint, a footprint, a flake of skin, a hair... And in your case, Mr. Green, you left pieces of yourself all over Marianne Roberts' bathroom."

He smirked, but didn't say anything. Sara had the sudden, barely controllable urge to punch him in the face.

"Marianne Roberts was found hanging upside down over her bathtub," Sara said, never breaking eye-contact with Green. "We found some of  _ your _ hairs in the bath, and some of  _ your _ skin cells on the rope used to suspend her. How do you explain that?"

He shrugged. "Never said I wasn't in her house," he said. "We were screwing. Probably touched the rope in one of her kinky little games. Marianne was one hot bitch."

Sara kept her anger in check with a supreme effort of will. "I see. And when was the last time you and Marianne had sex?"

Green sniffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Friday afternoon," he said.

Catherine leaned forward slightly. "Yeah, here's the thing, Andy," she said. "When we examine a woman's body we can tell when she last had sex. In Marianne's case we know she definitely didn't have sex the day she died. In fact, there was no evidence to suggest that she'd  _ ever _ had sex with a man."

"Which makes sense," Sara said, taking up Catherine's train of thought. "Considering she was a lesbian in a committed, monogamous relationship. But you knew that, didn't you?"

Andy Green began to laugh. Brass slammed his hands down on the table hard, making even Catherine and Sara jump. "I'd like to know what's funny," he said, and Green shut his mouth.

Catherine looked over at Brass with a slight smile, feeling her already immense respect for him go up a few notches. "Let's cut the crap, Andy," she said, turning her attention back to their suspect. "We know Marianne asked you to pose as her boyfriend. What, did you take that as a come on?"

He shrugged. "Hey, she wouldn't have asked me if she didn't want me. Deep down all these girls just need a good man."

"Even if that were true you hardly qualify as a 'good man'," Sara snapped.

Green looked over at her. "Well, I can see who wears the boiler-suit around here."

"Shut up," Catherine spat, drawing his attention back to her. "So, you thought you could turn Marianne, huh?"

Andy grinned. "I know I could have," he said, and leered at Catherine in a way that made her skin crawl.

"Take your goddamn eyes off her," Sara hissed.

"Worried she'll see something she likes?"

"Hardly."

Catherine put a calming hand on the brunette's knee under the table, squeezing gently. Sara looked over and Catherine shook her head minutely. They had an animated conversation with their eyes, and eventually Sara looked away.

"Is that why you were there on Friday?" she asked, trying to keep her temper in check. "Were you going to show her what she was missing?"

Andy Green smiled. Sara felt her blood start to boil. "Something like that," he said.

"Okay, that's enough," Catherine said, cutting off Sara's angry retort. "Let me tell you what happened. You went round to her house to do your 'ugg ugg' caveman crap. She wasn't receptive so you decided to force yourself on her."

Andy Green was sitting with a smirk on his face, completely unmoved. "Bull," he said shortly.

"No, you see, we know there was a struggle," Catherine continued. "We know that someone covered her mouth and pressed hard enough to leave a bruise. And we know she fought against that person and scratched him. Oh...isn't that a scratch on your neck?" She pointed at his neck, raising an eyebrow.

Green brought a hand up to his neck, covering the scratch marks.

"Your DNA was found under Marianne's fingernails," Sara said.

Green squirmed a little. "Okay," he said. "I went there and tried it on with her. But I left when she gave me this."

Sara nodded slowly, letting him think she was buying it. He started to smile. "How'd your skin cells get on the rope then?" she said.

His smile faded and he made no answer. Catherine reached into her briefcase and extracted a photograph of Andy Green's knife. "Is this your knife?" she said.

Green looked at it and his face paled. "No comment."

"That's okay, we already know it's yours. Can you explain why traces of Marianne's blood were found on it?"

"No comment."

Sara nodded and produced a photograph of the bloodstained T-Shirt. "Now this shirt," she said, "has your skin cells all over it. We know you wore it recently. And what do you know, Marianne Roberts' blood is all over it. So, we can place you in the house, we know there was a struggle, we know you tied Marianne over the bath, we know it was your knife that cut her and we have the shirt you were wearing while you did it. We also have Marianne's clothes which we found in a dumpster at your workplace. Can you explain that?"

Green looked over at his lawyer with his eyebrow raised in a silent question. She nodded slightly and he sat back in his chair. "I want to talk to my lawyer in private."

Brass immediately clicked off the tape recorder. "Five minutes tops," he said.

Catherine, Sara and Brass left the room and went a couple of doors down to Brass's office. "Coffee?" he said.

"Please," Catherine replied, flopping down in a chair. Sara stood stiffly near the door.

"Think he'll cop?" she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"He's probably seeing if the lawyer can cut him a deal," Brass replied as he handed Catherine a steaming mug. "But I'll be recommending a charge of Murder 1 to the DA."

Sara nodded. "Good." Brass handed her a mug and she took it without looking at him.

"Suppose he doesn't confess. What are the chances he'll get off?" Catherine asked.

Brass shook his head. "There's too much evidence. He's going down - you guys saw to that."

Catherine grinned in triumph. "It was mostly Sara," she said, looking over at the other woman. She found Sara staring into space, like she'd forgotten there was anyone else in the room. "Sara?"

Sara's eyes snapped over to Catherine. "Yeah?"

"You okay?"

"Yeah," she said. "I'm just...gonna go to the bathroom."

Catherine almost got up to go after her but Brass held her in place with a hand on her shoulder. "Just let her be alone for a minute," he said.

Catherine leaned back in her seat and sighed deeply. "She shouldn't let this guy get to her," she said.

Brass shrugged. "It's probably a combination of things," he said. Catherine looked up sharply and frowned.

"Has she said something to you?"

Brass shook his head. "I can't really talk about it," he said gently.

"I'll bet this month's paycheck that I know all about it, whatever it is."

Brass hesitated. "What do you know?"

"What do you?" Catherine retorted.

Brass's face broke into a rueful grin. "Would you look at us?" he said. "I won't say anything to protect her privacy and you won't say anything because you're not sure what I know."

Catherine shook her head with a slight smile, then took a deep breath, hoping to God that Brass really did already know what she was about to reveal. "Sara's been drinking."

Brass nodded. "She told you about it?"

"Not exactly," Catherine said, sighing. "I kind of found out on my own."

"Me too," he said. "Takes one to know one, you know?"

Catherine nodded. "She's stopped though," she said. "That's got to say something."

Brass put his hand on her shoulder. "Stopping's not the hardest part," he said gently. "Anyone can stop once. It's resisting the urge to start up again that's difficult."

Catherine looked down at her hands. "Even when the people who love you are doing everything they can to help you?"

"Catherine...there's only so much anyone can do. It's up to her now. And let me tell you, she's got a ways to go yet."

Catherine looked up and was about to say something when Sara came back in. "He's ready to talk. You guys coming?"

Catherine drained the last of her coffee and followed Sara back to the interrogation room.

The lawyer looked a little shaken. "My client has decided it would be in his best interest to cooperate," she said, her voice wavering slightly.

"Goodie," Catherine replied sarcastically. She slid a piece of paper over the table to him. "Write down what happened and sign it. Then we'll speak to the DA about formal charges."

Green grabbed the paper and a pen and seemed to hesitate. "It wasn't murder," he said. "I was just trying to shut her up. Not my fault she had to keep screaming."

Sara shook her head. "You killed her while attempting to rape her," she said coldly. "That's first degree murder. And you know what? I don't believe for a second that you didn't mean to do it. What you did to her afterwards proves that." Catherine reached out for Sara again, trying to calm her down without words. Sara ignored her. "Why did you put the apple in her mouth, Andy?" she said, her eyes never breaking contact with his.

Catherine felt a shiver go through her as his face lit up in a smile. "You really wanna know?" he said. Sara nodded.

"Tell me."

His grin widened. "Because she was squealing like a pig when I killed her."

Catherine flinched in revulsion - even the lawyer looked disgusted. Sara drew herself up to her full height and for an endless moment Catherine thought she was going to pounce on him.

"That's what we in law enforcement call aggravating circumstances," she said shortly, her fists clenched at her sides.

Green snorted. "What the fuck does that mean?" he said.

"That means the DA will be asking for the death penalty," Brass supplied, leaning over him. Catherine watched in satisfaction as Green's face drained of colour.

"It's not so funny now is it?" Sara said, and turned her back on him. The door slammed as she fled the room.

* * * * *

Catherine burst out of the main door of the police department just in time to see Sara's car screeching out into the street at what was probably an illegal speed. "Shit," she cursed, fishing in her purse for her keys as she hurried to her car.

"Catherine!"

She spun round to see Brass running towards her. "What is it?" she asked irritably. "I have to go after Sara."

"What are you going to say to her when you find her?"

Catherine was at her car now and she leaned against the door, sighing deeply. "I have no clue. I'd sort of planned on just winging it." She ran her fingers through her hair and turned to him. "Do you really think this is about the drinking? Maybe she's just upset about the case-"

"She hasn't even admitted she's got a problem yet," Brass interrupted. "Just be careful what you say to her."

Catherine nodded and climbed into her car. Brass waved as she pulled out of the lot. "Be careful what you say," Catherine muttered to herself. "No fucking shit, Einstein - any other advice?" She shook her head to clear it and tried to concentrate on the road. In the back of her mind a voice was gently reminding her that there were at least three bars between the PD and CSI headquarters. When she passed the first and Sara's car wasn't outside she released a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. That was something at least. The next two bars were also Sara-free and Catherine felt her heart get a tiny bit lighter. She found Sara's car abandoned in the CSI parking lot.

"Catherine!"

Catherine was barely in the door when she heard Gil Grissom's voice calling out to her. She groaned inwardly - there was no-one she'd like to talk to less right at that moment.

"Yeah?" she managed, turning to him.

"How did the interrogation go?"

Catherine tried not to make her impatience too obvious. "Confession," she replied shortly. "Listen, have you seen Sara?"

Grissom shook his head. "No, but I need you to go over Doc Robbins' report on our DB."

Catherine began to curse Grissom mentally with every name she could think of. "Grissom, it's nearly the end of shift. Can it wait?"

He looked a little nonplussed. "Have you got something more pressing to take care of?"

Catherine smiled sweetly. "Yes, actually," she said and with that she turned and left him.

She found Sara in the locker room, leaning with her palms flat against a locker door and her forehead resting on the cool metal. There was dent the size of Belgium at the bottom of the door where she'd obviously kicked it. Catherine hung in the doorway, sensing a strange tension in the air and almost reluctant to announce her presence.

"You going to stand there all day?" Sara asked without looking up. Catherine took a breath and stepped forward a few paces, reaching out to place a hand on Sara's shoulder. The brunette shrugged her off. "Don't touch me."

Catherine pulled her hand back as if she'd been burned. "Sara?"

"Just don't," Sara replied harshly.

Catherine stepped back slightly, feeling apprehensive and even a little scared. "Sara, what's going on?"

She sat down on the bench, waiting for an answer. Suddenly Sara kicked the locker again, making Catherine jump and gasp a little in shock. The noise reverberated eerily in the silent room.

"I'm just wondering what the point of it all is," Sara muttered, without looking at Catherine. She moved away from the badly dented locker, running her hands over her face. "Why even bother to make a life for yourself when guys like Andy Green can just come along and take it all away, just like that?" She snapped her fingers to illustrate her point.

Catherine shook her head dumbly. "I don't understand."

Sara let out a short humourless laugh. "I don't think I can do this," she said.

Catherine felt the blood slowly drain from her face. "Do what, Sara?" she asked, afraid that she already knew the answer.

Sara turned round and met Catherine's eyes for the first time and gestured to the air between them. "This," she said. "Us. I can't do it."

Catherine was on her feet and by Sara's side in an instant. "Sara-"

"No!" Sara shied away from Catherine, arms wrapped around her torso. "It's too hard. I can't."

Catherine took a small deliberate step forward, forcing herself into Sara's personal space. "You're not making any sense."

Sara shook her head slowly. "He killed her. For nothing."

"Marianne?" Catherine frowned.

Sara nodded her head. "Yes, Marianne...and Kay and Pam and Meghan and Susan and Suzanna and God knows how many others."

Catherine shook her head, feeling decidedly out of her depth. "What? Honey, I don't understand."

Sara looked up. "Don't you recognise those names?" she asked. Catherine shook her head dumbly and Sara sighed. "No, I don't suppose you do." She stared at a spot in the middle distance. "I still hear them sometimes," she admitted softly. "And I wonder what the point of any of it is when all we do is clean up the mess after the damage is already done...when we can't save any of them."

"Those women were cases?" Catherine asked, still grasping for purchase in the conversation.

Sara looked up. "Is that all these people are to you?" she said harshly. "Cases?"

"When they're over? Yes," Catherine replied firmly. "If you can't get some distance from this job you just burn out, Sara. And what good can you do then?"

"What good do we do anyway?" Sara replied. When Catherine didn't answer she shook her head a little. "You see?" With that she pushed past Catherine and made for the door.

"Wait!" Catherine called. Sara paused in the doorway but didn't look back. "Where are you going?"

Sara shrugged. "Home."

"And what are you going to do when you get there?"

Sara shrugged again. "Whatever I want."

Catherine took a small step forward. "And what do you want, Sara?" she asked softly. There was no reply but the other woman's shoulders stiffened. Catherine reached out a trembling hand but stopped short of touching her. She could feel the tension radiating off her in waves. "Sara?" she asked again. "What do you want?"

"I want a fucking drink," Sara replied harshly.

Catherine stepped back as if she'd been slapped, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. She'd thought...well, it didn't matter what she'd thought because obviously she'd been wrong. It was almost funny. She had actually believed that a hug and a kiss and a declaration of love would make everything better. That Sara's problem was just going to go away now that Mother Catherine was there to patch her up. God, how stupid she had been. "Sara-"

"Just leave me alone, Catherine."

Catherine's pain turned to anger in a split second. "Don't fucking say that to me," she snapped. "I deserve better than that from you."

Sara rounded on her. "Oh you do, huh? And why's that?"

"Because I'm your-" Catherine retorted, then paused. She wanted to say 'girlfriend' but suddenly that seemed in doubt. "Because I care about you," she amended, taking a step towards Sara.

"Catherine..." Sara said, shaking her head. "I just need to-"

"To what?" Catherine interrupted angrily. "To go back to your empty apartment, dive into a bottle and drown it all out? You really think destroying yourself is going to help all those women you think you've failed?"

Sara's eyes began to water and she looked down. "Justice," she muttered.

Catherine covered the distance between them in one long stride and wrapped her arms round Sara, only squeezing tighter when the brunette tried to pull away. "Is that what you think?" she whispered. "You do your job. You catch the bad guys and you put them in jail. What more do you think you can do?"

Sara shrugged. "It just feels like there should be more..." She trailed off. Catherine held her a little tighter and, gradually, she felt Sara's arms slide up to return her embrace.

"Why are you running from me, baby?" she whispered into Sara's ear. Sara began to tremble gently.

"I-" she said huskily, then cleared her throat. "I don't know how to do this."

"What?" Catherine asked softly, dropping a gentle kiss onto the other woman's cheek.

Sara took a deep shaky breath. "This relationship thing. It's kind of new territory."

Catherine pulled back and ducked her head so she could meet Sara's dark eyes. "Kiss me," she whispered.

Sara's eyes widened slightly and her breath caught in her throat. "Cath-"

"Ssh," Catherine hushed her. "Please. Just kiss me."

Sara frowned but leaned forward nevertheless, pressing their lips together. Catherine slid her hands into a shock of curly brown hair and moulded her body against the length of Sara's. She parted her lips in a subtle invitation which Sara accepted hungrily. A moan bubbled up in Catherine's throat as Sara deepened the kiss and pulled her closer. Her fingers slid through Sara's hair and then down to her cheeks and then her shoulders. "I love you," she gasped in a brief moment when Sara pulled away to breathe and then they were kissing again, clinging to each other tightly.

Catherine pulled away first, face flushed, breathing shallow. She had Sara's shirt balled in her fists and her head buried in the crook of her neck. "Do you feel what I do when we do that?" Catherine asked softly.

Sara had to clear her throat before she could reply. "I don't know," she said. "What do you feel?"

Catherine brought Sara's right hand up slowly and kissed her knuckles. Then she placed it gently onto her chest, allowing Sara to feel the thudding of her heart. "This," she whispered, watching as Sara's breathing became shallow. Then she found her free hand being pulled up to touch Sara's chest where she felt a matching pulse thundering under her fingertips. Catherine's eyes became misty and she had to blink away the sudden moisture.

"Don't cry, Catherine," Sara whispered.

Catherine shook her head. "I'm not," she said.

"You are."

"I'm just wondering what you're thinking," she insisted.

Sara sighed and leaned her head on Catherine's shoulder. "I don't know," she said and swallowed hard. "What would I do if I lost you? What if one of the Andy Greens of this world took you away from me?"

Catherine felt comprehension wash over her and she actually smiled. "Ah, I see," she said. "You're afraid that if you let yourself get attached you'll be opening yourself up to pain if anything happens. Is that it?" Sara didn't reply so Catherine knew she was right. "Maybe you think that not allowing yourself to feel anything will mean you never get hurt. Huh?" Catherine pulled back and took Sara's face between her hands. "You've been doing that for as long as I've known you so let me ask you something. Has it worked so far?"

All Sara could do was shake her head dumbly. Catherine slid her hands down to Sara's shoulders and trailed a series of short butterfly kisses over her face. "Sometimes the world can be cruel," she said. "Sometimes bad things happen to good people and you can't control it. Something might happen to me, I can't deny that. All I can promise you is that I will love you and cherish you and try to make you happy for as long as I'm able. So you just have to decide...if that's worth the risk."

Sara exhaled slowly and nuzzled into Catherine's hair. Her brow was furrowed in concentration and Catherine had the strangest feeling that her scientific mind was busy working out all the odds and probabilities inherent in that risk. Maybe it was.

"Sun's coming up," Sara said softly after a moment, looking out of the window. Catherine smiled.

"Is that supposed to be a metaphor?" she asked. Sara let out a short involuntary laugh.

"No," she said. "Just an observation." They lapsed into silence again for a moment and then Sara pulled back. "Can I come home with you?" she asked in a small voice.

Catherine smiled and leaned in to kiss her. "Yes," she said firmly. Sara smiled and slid her hand down Catherine's arm, tangling their fingers together. Catherine squeezed Sara's hand tightly as she led her out of the locker room.

* * * * *

They attracted a few stares on their way out of the lab but Sara was past caring. Catherine was holding her hand and right at that moment she felt like that touch was the only thing keeping her afloat. If Catherine let go...she didn't want to think about what would happen if Catherine let go. She'd be swept away in the familiar inertia that had always led her to a bottle and she might not escape this time.

Catherine smiled over at her and squeezed her hand a little tighter. "I'm not letting you go, Sara," she whispered.

Sara blinked back tears and squeezed back. "Promise?"

"Promise."

Sara glanced back at her and offered a watery smile. "How did you know I needed to hear that?"

Catherine smiled and shrugged. "I didn't. I just wanted to say it."

Sara tugged on Catherine's hand and pulled the startled but pleased woman into her arms. "Well, I'm glad you did."

Catherine resisted the impulse to kiss her, but just barely. The reception of CSI wasn't the best place for a display like that - and they were already being stared at. She shot a venomous look at the receptionist they'd had a run in with the other day, daring her to say something. The woman coloured slightly and looked away. Catherine smirked and tightened her hold on Sara.

"Hey," she said softly as her eye was drawn to the door. "Isn't that Emily Porter?"

Sara released her and turned around. Sure enough, Emily Porter had just entered the building, accompanied by a shattered looking middle aged couple. "Yeah," she said, and held up her hand in a slight wave. Emily waved back, then turned to the couple. They exchanged a few words then the couple made their way to the reception desk and Emily headed for Sara.

"I'll just wait for you," Catherine said tactfully, placing her hand on Sara's shoulder. Sara covered it with her own briefly and smiled.

"Hi, Sara," said Emily when Catherine had slipped away.

"Hi, Emily," Sara replied, giving her a tired smile. "How are you doing?"

Emily shrugged, wrapping her arms round her middle. "Pretty much how you'd expect."

Sara nodded in understanding. "I want you to know," she said slowly. "We've got Andy Green in custody."

Emily looked up sharply. "Are you sure?" she said breathlessly. "I mean, it was definitely him?"

"Beyond a shadow of a doubt," Sara confirmed. "He confessed. And even if he hadn't the evidence was so strong even OJ's lawyer couldn't have got him off."

Emily let out a nervous giggle, then covered her mouth. "I'm sorry," she said. "It's just...wow, you know?"

Sara smiled. "Sometimes the system works."

Emily grinned. "Occasionally." She shook herself slightly and ran her hands over her face. "I have to tell Al and Bernadette."

Sara cocked her head. "The couple you came in with? Are they Marianne's parents?"

Emily confirmed her assumption with a nod. "They flew in overnight from Texas. They're here to...uh...collect her." She shook her head slightly. "You'll never believe this - they've been trying to find Marianne for years. Once they got over the initial shock they really regretted what they'd done to her but it was too late. And Marianne - there are eight years worth of Christmas and birthday cards at home that she was too scared to send." Emily sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "It's all just so stupid."

Sara shook her head. "No," she said. "It's just sad."

Emily closed her eyes. "Yeah, that too." Suddenly she was smiling. "Al and Bernadette want me to come and stay with them in Texas for a while. They're actually calling me their 'daughter-in-law'."

Sara smiled. "Well, you are. Actually, no, you're their 'daughter-despite-the-law'." Emily let out a genuine laugh at that.

"I'll remember that one," she said.

"You gonna go?" Sara asked.

Emily nodded slowly. "Yeah, I actually am. I'd like to know what Marianne was like before..."

"And they'd like to know what she was like after," Sara finished. Emily nodded.

"That's about the size of it." She looked back at Marianne's parents and flashed them a small smile. "I'd better go," she said, turning back to Sara. "But listen - can I look you up when I'm back in town?"

Sara hesitated briefly. Forming friendships with people she met on cases was a big no-no for her. Then again, forming any friendships at all wasn't something she'd done a lot of lately.

"Sure," she said eventually, and returned Emily's smile. "Oh, wait!" she said, when Emily had turned her back to go.

"Yeah?"

"I just wanted to tell you something else about the case. It looks like the DA will be asking for the death penalty for Green."

Sara watched a flash of triumph flit over Emily's face and then the blonde closed her eyes and shook her head. "No," she said softly. "I don't want that."

Sara did a quick double take. "Huh?"

Emily looked up at her. "I'd rather defend the son of a bitch myself than let him be killed in Marianne's name."

Sara stared at her dumbly. "Emily," she spluttered. "He  _ killed _ her."

"You think I don't know that?" Emily snapped. "You think I'd somehow managed to forget that my lover is dead?"

"No, of course not. I'm sorry."

Emily shook her head and sighed. "It's okay, I understand. I have to admit it would give me a certain satisfaction to see him strapped down and put to sleep like the animal he is. But Marianne would hate me if I let that happen."

Sara was beginning to understand. "She was anti?"

"Very," Emily confirmed. "She used to protest every time there was an execution. She did it when she lived in Texas too, which kept her busy as I'm sure you can imagine."

Sara managed a small smile. "Yeah, I can."

Emily was staring at a spot somewhere over Sara's shoulder. "Marianne used to get so angry every time someone was put on death row. She said it might be easier to swallow if they were at least executed straight away but they can be there for five, ten, twenty years. And they never know when they're going to be put out of their misery." She turned back to Sara with watery eyes. "She said no-one had the right to take a life. Not the killers, and certainly not us. Every time we strike out at someone in anger or revenge we let them take a part of our dignity that they wouldn't have had before. Well...that's what Marianne said."

Sara was silent for a moment. "And do you believe that?" she asked softly.

Emily shrugged. "I don't know right now," she said. "But I know what Marianne believed. And I won't let her memory be desecrated by letting something happen in her name that she would have found repugnant."

Sara shook her head slightly and looked over Emily's shoulder to where Catherine was waiting for her in the doorway. The sun was coming up outside, casting light over her back and making her hair shine. A small smile was playing on her lips as she looked back at them. Sara swallowed against a sudden lump in her throat. "Emily," she said with difficulty. "You're a much better person than I am."

Suddenly she found herself being hugged and it was all she could do to reciprocate, wrapping her arms around Emily's softly shaking shoulders.

"I think it's more accurate to say that Marianne was a better person than both of us," Emily managed to say, blinking away her tears.

Sara nodded. "Maybe," she conceded. "I wish I could have met her."

Emily pulled back a little. "You'd have liked her," she said. "Everyone did." Her fingers came up to wipe the tears from her cheeks, then she smiled ruefully. "I'd better go before your girlfriend gets too jealous."

Sara blushed. "Are we that obvious?"

Emily raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah," she confirmed. Her face softened. "She looks like a keeper."

Sara looked over at Catherine and smiled. "Yeah, she is."

Emily placed a hand on Sara's arm. "Thank you," she said softly. "For everything."

"You're welcome."

Emily gave her another brief hug and when she pulled back she was smiling.

"So," said Sara. "I guess I'll talk to you when you get back."

"Count on it." With a final smile Emily turned away and walked back to Marianne's parents.

Sara turned and walked towards Catherine, who was waiting for her in the doorway with a slight frown on her face. "Let's go," Sara said softly.

"If you're done," Catherine replied shortly.

Sara did a quick double take, then smiled. "Now that's cute," she said, breezing past Catherine and out into the chilly morning.

"What is?" Catherine asked as she followed.

"This jealousy thing," Sara answered, flashing a smile over her shoulder. "She wasn't hitting on me, you know."

Catherine flushed. "I didn't think that," she mumbled, in such a way that Sara knew she definitely  _ had _ thought that.

Sara opened her arms. "C'mere," she said. Catherine didn't even hesitate as she allowed herself to be folded up in Sara's arms, her head fitting snugly just under the brunette's chin. Sara sighed. "I love being with you," she whispered.

Catherine felt a little shiver go through her. "Really?"

A soft pair of lips pressed gently into her forehead. "Really," Sara confirmed.

Catherine looked up and slowly got lost in the other woman's serious brown eyes. "Sara," she said huskily. The urge to kiss her was overwhelming and she knew that if Sara didn't pull away soon she was going to give in to it.

But Sara didn't pull away. Instead she leaned down closer so their lips were almost touching and whispered: "Shall I stop?" Catherine groaned low in her throat and shook her head minutely. Her eyes fluttered closed and then Sara was kissing her with a single-minded, passionate intensity that quite simply and effectively took her breath away.

"I think I need to take you home with me now," Catherine muttered when she was finally released. Sara just nodded as she nuzzled into her neck.

"Sounds like a plan."


	5. Chapter 5

  
  


Sara climbed into the passenger seat of the Tahoe with a slight smirk on her face. A glassy eyed Catherine took her seat behind the wheel a couple of seconds later. She placed a pair of gently shaking hands on the steering wheel and let out a long breath.

"Shit," she muttered. "We can't go straight home."

Sara cocked her head. "Huh?"

"Lindsey," Catherine explained. "Lindsey is at Nancy's. I have to pick her up and take her to school."

Sara smiled slowly. "I'll take it as a compliment on my kissing abilities that you'd forgotten about that till now."

Catherine rolled her eyes as she turned the ignition. "I'd better stop now while your head still fits in the car."

Sara laughed and leaned down to turn on the radio, tuning it to the local country station. Immediately Catherine turned it over to rock. They had a brief battle of wills which Catherine eventually won. Sara finally relented when the DJ started playing 'Stairway to Heaven'. "It's only because I like this song," she said.

Catherine looked at Sara out of the corner of her eye as she drove, glad her mood seemed to have lightened somewhat. Frankly, Sara had scared her back in the locker room. After all these years of pining after her in silence it was simply unthinkable that she should lose her now. But it seemed that Sara had been able to put her fears to one side, at least temporarily. Now all Catherine had to do was ensure they never surfaced again.

'Stairway to Heaven' finished and Sara immediately turned the radio to the country station, grinning widely as she did so. Catherine just rolled her eyes.

"God you're annoying, Sara Sidle," she said.

"Yup," Sara agreed, grinning even wider.

Catherine shook her head but left the radio station where it was. "So, what were you and Emily talking about?"

Sara gave a brief resume of their conversation and by the time she'd finished Catherine was pulling up outside her sister's house. She shut off the engine and looked over at Sara with a small smile.

"You ready for this?"

"Meeting the family? Not really, but I don't have much choice now," Sara replied.

"You could wait in the car," Catherine offered, but Sara shook her head.

"Then I'd look silly," she said, running her fingers over the back of Catherine's hand.

Catherine made a sound that could only be described as a purr. "Can't have that," she mumbled. Her fingers tangled together with Sara's as she spoke.

"How much does she know about me?" Sara asked.

"Uhm...I may have sort of talked about you constantly for nearly four years," Catherine admitted shyly. Sara flushed lightly.

"Uh oh, what have you been telling her?"

"Oh, just how sweet and wonderful you are," Catherine assured her, breaking out into a grin.

"Is that all?" Sara replied, eyebrow raised.

"Well...I may have mentioned how annoying you can be."

Leaning close briefly, Sara pressed their lips together. "That's why you love me," she whispered, tightening her grip on Catherine's hand.

"That's right," Catherine agreed seriously.

Sara looked down, sporting an adorable shy grin and Catherine felt her heart melt just a little more than it already had. "Come on," she urged, tugging at her hand. "Let's go in."

* * * * *

Sara was barely in the door when a blonde blur rushed over to her and wrapped itself round her legs.

"Sara!" Lindsey squealed.

"Uh, hey munchkin," Sara replied nervously, her hand going automatically to the girl's head.

"Don't I get a hug?" Catherine asked playfully, sensing Sara's discomfort. The brunette shot her a grateful look as Lindsey shifted her attention to her mother. Sara liked Lindsey, but she still wasn't that comfortable around children. But at least she was willing to try, unlike Catherine's very recent ex, Chris 'kids and me don't mix' Bezich.

Almost as soon as Lindsey had let go Sara found herself being attacked by another little blur - but this time it was of the four legged variety. "Hey," she said with a smile, squatting down to ruffle the dog's ears. "Hi there, little guy." She frowned briefly, then looked up at Catherine. "Maverick?"

Catherine flushed lightly. "Yeah, well, he seemed like a nice dog and I didn't want him going to some animal shelter. I'm not home enough to look after him but Nancy was kind enough to take him in."

Sara smiled softly, feeling a rush of affection for the other woman sweep through her. Maybe they weren't just cases to her after all.

"Oh, you're actually here," said a teasing voice. Sara stood up, noticing the other woman for the first time. Nancy was standing in the kitchen doorway with a little smirk playing on her lips. Sara smiled nervously.

"You must be Nancy," she said, extending her hand.

"And you must be Sara," Nancy replied, accepting Sara's hand and shaking it firmly. They seemed to size each other up for a second or two, then Catherine attracted their attention with a cough.

"Have you had breakfast yet, Nance?"

Nancy shook her head. "Nope, not yet."

"Great, neither have we." She looked down at Lindsey. "How about pancakes?"

Lindsey's answering smile would have outshone a hundred watt bulb. Catherine swept her up in her arms and carried her through to the kitchen, leaving Sara and Nancy alone.

"So," said Nancy, stepping back and crossing her arms. "I've heard lots about you."

Inwardly Sara cringed at her tone of voice and body language. She may as well have put a big sign up saying 'I don't trust you.'

"Oh, really?" she said, chuckling nervously.

"Uh huh."

Sara felt her hands start to shake and she shoved them in her pockets to cover it. She wasn't quite sure whether this was another symptom of detox or just pure blind panic.

"All good I hope," she said, trying to smile.

Her response was a raised eyebrow.

_ Well, fuck this _ , Sara thought. Aloud she said "I wonder if Catherine needs any help with breakfast," and escaped into the kitchen.

Instantly she felt more at ease. "Hey," said Catherine with a shy smile, holding out her hand. Sara took it and squeezed briefly as she took her place by Catherine's side.

"Need any help?" she asked, her relief at being in safe company clearly evident in her voice.

"No, not really." Catherine frowned. "Are you okay?"

"Yup," Sara lied. She lowered her voice. "Just felt it had been too long since I touched you."

Catherine blushed and Sara took the opportunity to slip away from her and sit down at the table with Lindsey.

"So, how's school, sweetie?"

Nancy entered the room in the middle of Lindsey's extended rambling speech and watched them both contemplatively. Sara tried not to squirm, making sure to smile and laugh in all the right places at Lindsey's story. The little girl stopped talking briefly when she was presented with a plate of pancakes, but after she'd bolted them down she carried right on talking, enjoying her captive audience.

"Okay, Linds, it's time to go," Catherine said, urging her out of her chair.

"Okay, okay," said Lindsey rolling her eyes. Sara giggled slightly at her tone of voice but sobered when Catherine turned her famous glare in her direction. Lindsey grinned.

"Will you be there when I get home from school, Sara?" she asked, wrapping her arms round Sara's middle.

Sara looked up at Catherine in surprise, knowing what answer she wanted to give but unsure if she should. Catherine's eyes were shining and the beginning of a smile was curving her lips upwards. Sara tentatively smiled back.

"Yeah, sweetie, I will."

Lindsey rewarded her with a little squeal and a tight hug. "Cool," she said. "Can we watch The Lion King?"

"Whatever you want," Sara replied indulgently.

Catherine rolled her eyes. 'Whipped' she mouthed silently. "You coming, Sara?" she said aloud.

"Actually," Nancy interrupted. "I was thinking Sara and I could get to know each other a little while you're taking Linds to school." She laughed at Catherine's slightly horrified expression. "Don't worry, you'll get her back in one piece."

Catherine tried to meet Sara's eyes to provide a little reassurance. "Is that okay, Sara?"

"Uh...yeah, sure. Why wouldn't it be?"

Catherine delicately chose not to mention the fact that Sara looked like she'd just been asked to go a couple of rounds with Mike Tyson. "Okay then," she said. "I'll be back in a half hour, tops."

Sara decided to walk the two Willows women to the door. "You know she hates me, right?" she murmured under her breath.

"Lindsey, go on and let yourself into the car," Catherine said, handing her daughter the keys. When Lindsey was out of earshot she turned back to the brunette. "Don't be silly, baby, she just met you."

Sara snorted. "I don't think that matters much."

Shaking her head Catherine wrapped her arms round Sara in a comforting hug. "Don't be so paranoid," she murmured. "She's just a little...protective of me."

Sara broke out in a playful grin. "Mmm. And you need to be protected from me, do you?"

Catherine responded by squeezing a little tighter. "Hmm, maybe. You're pretty dangerous." She nuzzled into her neck and nipped lightly at her pulse point.

Sara's response could only be described as a growl.

Catherine breathed deeply. "Hold that thought," she ground out. "For another half hour." Gently she disentangled herself from Sara's embrace, and placed a soft kiss on her cheek.

"Hurry back," Sara murmured as Catherine started to walk towards her car. Then she squared her shoulders and made her way back into the lion's den.

* * * * *

After ten minutes of driving along to Lindsey's whiny teeny-bopper music Catherine was beginning to long for Sara's country station.

"Honey, mommy's been awake for eighteen hours," she said. "Could we please turn the...uh...'music' down?"

Lindsey grumbled for a moment or two but eventually obliged. The latest manufactured pop band became an ignorable drone in the background, and Catherine sighed in relief.

"Is Sara your girlfriend?"

Catherine nearly crashed the car.

"What the...sorry!" she yelled out the window to a very pissed off SUV driver she'd nearly slammed into. Taking a deep breath she glanced at Lindsey. "What makes you say that, sweetie?"

Lindsey shrugged. "You were hugging and kissing," she said matter-of-factly.

Catherine tried to concentrate on breathing. "I hug and kiss all my friends," she said.

"Oh, okay," Lindsey replied. They lapsed into silence and Catherine thought she'd got away with it.

"Gemma's mommies hug and kiss too."

This time they were sitting at a red light so there was no danger to life when Catherine went catatonic with shock.

"Gemma's...your friend Gemma?" she spluttered. "Gemma's mommies?"

Lindsey giggled. "The light's green," she pointed out.

Shaking herself she applied her foot to the pedal and resumed the journey to school. "Gemma has two mommies?" she said, when she felt she was calm enough to continue the conversation.

"Uh huh," Lindsey confirmed. "You've met them, silly."

Catherine thought back to all the times she'd picked up Lindsey from Gemma's house, or dropped her off for sleepovers. Now that she thought about it, there were always two women there but she'd never thought to connect the dots. "So I have," she said.

"Sara's nice," Lindsey said.

"Uh...yes, she is," Catherine agreed, still feeling decidedly out of her depth.

She concentrated on the road for the next few minutes until they reached the school. The yard was already full of kids and Lindsey waved to a few of her friends.

"See you later, mommy," she said, leaning over to give Catherine a hug and kiss.

"Yeah, later, sweetie," Catherine replied. "Lindsey?"

Lindsey had her hand on the door handle. "Uh huh?"

"Uhm...Sara and I are probably going to be seeing a lot more of each other from now on," she said. "Is that all right?"

Lindsey scooted over and wrapped her arms round her mom's neck. "Grown-ups are so silly," she said with a giggle, and then she was gone, melting into the crowd of children playing in the yard.

Catherine sat watching her for a few minutes. "I've got the best daughter in the world," she murmured to herself. "Thank you god."

She stayed until all the kids had been ushered inside, then she performed a quick U-turn so she could head back to Nancy's. Suddenly she remembered the last boyfriend she'd introduced to Nancy and the awful time she'd put him through. "Ugh," she groaned. She dreaded to think what Sara was going through with her decidedly overprotective younger sister.

* * * * *

Nancy smiled widely as she handed Sara another mug of coffee but Sara had the feeling it wasn't quite genuine.

"It's good to finally put a face to the name," she said.

"Uh...yeah, same here," Sara replied, conveniently forgetting that Catherine had mentioned her sister maybe once in all the time she'd known her. She took a sip of the blessed caffeine, trying not to count the minutes till Catherine returned.

"So, how long have you lived in Vegas?"

"Nearly four years," Sara answered. "Grissom called me out from San Francisco after Holly Gribbs was killed."

"Oh yes, I remember that. It hit Catherine pretty hard."

"Yeah," Sara agreed. "It did."

Nancy took a sip of her coffee. "Catherine talks about you a lot," she said conversationally.

Sara swallowed hard, burning her throat a little in the process. "Really?" she choked out.

A smirk appeared on Nancy's face. "Mmm hmm," she confirmed. "And Lindsey seems to like you a lot too."

"Well, I like her too."

Nancy's smile was genuine too. "I'm glad to hear it," she said. "Lindsey could use a little stability in her life. Things have been tough for her ever since Eddie was killed."

Sara flinched slightly when Eddie's name was mentioned. Nancy couldn't help but pick up on it.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

Sara shook her head quickly. "No, no," she assured her. Sensing Nancy was about to force the issue she relented. "It's just I was the one who had to close Eddie's case," she explained.

The other woman nodded. "I know," she said. "Catherine said you worked harder than anyone she'd ever known."

Sara blinked. "Oh," she breathed. "She uh...didn't say that to me."

"No? I'm surprised."

"Catherine and I..." Sara began, then trailed off. "Well, we haven't really been friends." She shook her head minutely, wondering why she was telling Nancy all this. Talk about giving your opponent ammunition.

"That's because Catherine always wanted to be more than friends," Nancy replied with a smirk. Sara felt her hands start to tremble again and put her mug down before she spilled it.

"Oh, she told you that, huh?" she said in slightly strangled voice.

"Eventually," Nancy replied. "And I think I can assume she got her wish. I don't think you'd be here otherwise."

Sara looked at her hands. "We...uh...well, we're just seeing what happens."

Nancy raised an eyebrow. "Well, Catherine's a big girl," she conceded. "I just hope Lindsey doesn't get too attached while you're figuring things out. Just in case."

Sara looked up sharply. "Lindsey?"

Nancy nodded, taking another sip of her coffee. "I think it's important that she gets a stable environment from the adults in her life, don't you?"

Sara took a deep breath. "Yeah," she replied. "You want me to fill out an application form to test my suitability?" she quipped, trying to lighten the mood.

Nancy didn't laugh. "We're just talking here," she said pointedly.

Sara looked back at her hands. "I wasn't expecting the Spanish Inquisition," she mumbled under her breath.

To her surprise Nancy laughed this time. "No-one expects the Spanish Inquisition," she answered.

Sara looked up and they shared a genuine smile at the joke.  _ Thank God for geekery _ , Sara thought.

"Listen, Nancy," she said aloud. "Catherine and I are just starting out. We're not exactly at the co-parent stage yet." She held up a hand to forestall Nancy's interruption. "I know that Lindsey is a huge part of Catherine's life. And if Catherine and I are together she's going to be a big part of mine too. But we've barely talked about how this relationship will affect us yet, never mind anyone else." She paused and ran her fingers through her hair. "I don't want to upset Lindsey or disrupt her life," she continued. "But so what if she gets attached to me? I'm not going to disappear off the face of the Earth if Catherine and I decide to just be friends. Frankly I'm quite attached to the little munchkin myself." Sara finished with a gentle smile which, after a few seconds, was reciprocated.

"Fair enough," Nancy said. She stood up. "You want some more coffee?"

Sara exhaled carefully. "Sure," she said, feeling like she'd managed to clear at least one hurdle.

* * * * *

Catherine pulled up outside Nancy's house five minutes later than she'd said she'd be. Cursing the morning traffic she quickly locked up the car and headed for the house. If Nancy had said anything to upset Sara she was going to kill her with her bare hands. It probably hadn't been the best idea to leave Sara alone with her sister. Nancy wasn't to know how fragile Sara was right now, nor how easily she could be pushed over the edge. And if she applied her usual interrogation technique that might be precisely what she did.

"Nance?" she called as she opened the door. "Sara?"

"In here!" Nancy replied from the kitchen. Catherine took a step towards the doorway but was stopped in her tracks by an unexpected sound.

Laughter.

"Oh god, how cute is that?" came Sara's voice. Catherine frowned and continued towards the kitchen.

"Precocious little scamp, wasn't she?" Nancy said with a smirk. Nancy and Sara were sitting huddled together at the table, grinning over a pile of old photographs. Catherine's eyes widened and she snatched the picture out of Sara's hands. It was a photograph of her at about three years old, sitting on some Santa lookalike's lap and pulling off his fake beard.

"You're showing her my baby pictures?" she said incredulously, swatting Nancy on the shoulder.

"It certainly appears that way doesn't it?" she replied, handing Sara another picture, this time of cowgirl Catherine sitting on a horse.

Catherine grabbed that one out of Sara's hands too and added it to the pile which she also swept up into her arms. "I think that's quite enough for one day," she said, looking at the two giggling women with narrowed eyes. "I didn't leave you two alone so you could gang up on me you know."

Sara stood up and pulled Catherine to her gently. "Is it my fault if I think you're cute?" she asked.

Nancy came up and took the photographs from Catherine. "If you two are going to go all snuggly I'd best take these away," she said. "Wouldn't want them getting crushed."

"Good plan," Sara replied with a smirk. Nancy rolled her eyes as she left the room.

"I'll be right back," she said. "Try to keep it PG-13."

Catherine flushed hotly and buried her face in Sara's neck. "You two seem to be getting on," she muttered.

"Mmm hmm," Sara confirmed, dropping a kiss into Catherine's hair.

"I'm sorry I was worried about you now," Catherine added, trying to inject a note of steel into her voice and failing miserably.

Sara laughed. "It takes more than a protective sister to put me off," she said.

Catherine looked up. "Promise?"

"Oh yeah?" Sara whispered, leaning down to brush her lips gently against Catherine's.

"Get a room you two," Nancy joked as she re-entered the kitchen.

"Oh come on," Sara replied, turning in Catherine's arms. "That was barely G."

"Whatever," Nancy replied, waving her hand dismissively.

"Oookay," Catherine exhaled. "I think I have to take Sara away from this bad influence."

Nancy and Sara shared a warm smile and then Sara turned back to Catherine. "Does that mean I get to come home with you now?" she asked.

Nancy covered her ears with her hands. "I don't think I need to hear this."

Catherine grinned and disentangled herself from Sara. "Okay, okay, we're going."

Nancy walked them to the door. "Well, it was a genuine pleasure to meet you Sara," she said, extending her hand.

"And you, Nancy," Sara replied, shaking her hand.

Catherine looked at Sara sideways when they were in the car.

"What?" the brunette asked.

"Nothing," Catherine replied. "I'm just glad you and Nancy are getting on. She...uh...doesn't like many of my partners."

"Oh, and I've got a feeling she doesn't get to meet many of them either," Sara said with a smile.

Catherine nodded. "You could be right," she admitted.

Sara grinned widely as she leaned over and kissed her. "I must be special then," she murmured.

"Very," Catherine replied softly. A glint entered Sara's eyes.

"Take me home, Catherine," she said.

Catherine pushed a few strands of dark hair behind Sara's ear and nodded. "Just try and stop me."

* * * * *

By the time they got to Catherine's house they'd both had plenty of time to become thoroughly nervous. Catherine dropped her keys twice trying to unlock the front door. When she managed it she wasted no time in dragging Sara inside and pressing her against the nearest wall.

"Mmmph," was the only sound Sara could make before her lips were covered by Catherine's, soft and insistent. The only clue that Catherine wasn't as confident as she seemed was a pair of trembling hands which were buried in silky dark hair.

"Cat," Sara groaned, tearing her lips away after a few heady moments. "I..."

Whatever she'd been going to say was swallowed up in a deep moan as Catherine dropped her lips to the soft skin of her neck and ran her tongue lightly along the line of her thundering pulse. Sara's hands moved automatically to Catherine's head to hold her in place.

"Sssh, baby," Catherine muttered into her ear, nipping gently at her earlobe. "Just let me..."

Sara hesitated, her internal conflict plain to see. Catherine stilled her movements until she felt the other woman's head incline in the tiniest of nods.

Her lips moved immediately to a deliciously soft patch of skin at the place where Sara's jaw met her throat, and nipped slightly. Sara took in a sharp breath and exhaled again slowly when Catherine's tongue immediately darted out to soothe the slight pain.

"God, why do you taste so good?" Catherine muttered rhetorically as she trailed kisses over the line of her jaw.

Sara knew she wasn't expected to make any reply but spoke anyway. "Chemistry, I guess," she mumbled.

Catherine made a brief sound of disapproval as she pulled back to meet Sara's eyes. "There's always a scientific answer for you, isn't there?"

Sara hesitated briefly, then shook her head. "No. Not always."

"No?"

"No," came the firm reply. "Sometimes I don't have any answers at all."

"Like now?" Catherine murmured. Sara felt her hands begin to tremble and she nodded.

Catherine smiled as she trailed her hand down Sara's arm. She joined their hands together and tugged gently, leading Sara to the bedroom.

"Cat," Sara hissed when they were standing at the foot of the bed. Catherine was busy playing with Sara's fingers and didn't respond. "Cat," Sara repeated, a little more urgently. "Maybe we shouldn't...

"I love your hands," Catherine said, ignoring Sara's feeble protest. She lifted Sara's hand and traced the lines on her palm. "No-one knows this," she whispered conspiratorially. "But I think hands are the sexiest part of a woman's body. Those delicate bones and tendons...long slender fingers..." She lifted Sara's hand to her mouth and traced her lips over each finger in turn. "Sometimes when I look at you I can hardly breathe...wondering what these fingers would feel like inside me." Her eyes sparkled as she sucked Sara's index finger into her mouth and ran her tongue over it. Sara's breathing was fast and shallow.

"So," she exhaled shakily and said the first thing that came into her head. "I'm not the only woman you've thought about?"

Catherine smiled as she released Sara's captive finger and moved her lips to her palm. "First," she said, punctuating the word with a kiss. "Best. But not only."

A faraway, pensive expression appeared on Sara's face and she frowned. "Am I...I mean, have you...?"

"You are," Catherine hastily assured her. "I haven't." She placed one of Sara's hands over her heart. "There's only you."

Sara closed her eyes and seemed to have trouble regulating her breathing.

"Baby, what's the matter?" Catherine asked, suddenly concerned.

Sara shrugged and dropped her head forward, letting her hair cover her face. "What if I...I mean, what if I' not-"

"Oh sweetheart," Catherine interrupted, pushing a curtain of dark hair behind Sara's ear. "Don't you know you're everything I want?"

Sara looked up slowly. "Why?" she asked softly.

Catherine frowned. "What?"

"I'm a mess, Catherine," Sara muttered. "I've fucked up every relationship I've ever been in. My life consists of counting the hours till I go to work, and then trying to think of excuses not to go home. I've spent the last six months drowning myself in Jack Daniels. What is there to want about me?"

Catherine blinked furiously against sudden tears. "Everything," she replied, proud that she kept most of the tremor out of her voice. "All the bad. All the good. Everything."

Sara looked up in surprise but before she could say anything she found her lips being attacked and held prisoner by Catherine's. Their bodies crushed together as Catherine tightened her hold. She slid Sara's jacket down over her shoulders as they kissed. The fabric got tangled about itself, trapping Sara's hands behind her back. "Cat," she muttered, tearing her lips away with some effort. "My arms..."

Catherine growled. "Maybe I should leave it like that. Maybe I like you helpless," she whispered.

"Cat," Sara repeated, and this time she couldn't keep the note of panic out of her voice. Immediately Catherine freed her, letting the jacket drop to the floor.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, trailing her hand over a flushed cheek. "Are you all right?"

Sara was silent for a long moment, then she nodded. "Yeah.."

"Do you trust me?"

This time there was no hesitation. "Yes." Catherine smiled.

"Then take off your shirt."

The temperature in the room increased at least tenfold as Sara's trembling fingers fought with the silver buttons of her favourite shirt. It took her much longer than it should have but eventually it slipped over her shoulders and lay puddled at her feet. She was wearing a white tank top underneath. Catherine smiled wolfishly. "I think I'm in love with this top," she murmured. She leant forward and kissed the hollow at Sara's clavicle, feeling with pleasure Sara's laboured breathing.

"Glad you approve," Sara managed through gritted teeth. She closed her eyes as Catherine's tongue traced the ridge of her collarbone.

Catherine smiled. Trailing her hands down Sara's torso she dropped to her knees. The tank top was pushed up over the other woman's subtly muscled stomach as she pressed her lips to the spot just above Sara's navel.

Sara hissed softly through clenched teeth and threaded her fingers through Catherine's baby soft hair. Catherine's tongue licked a delicate trail over her overheated skin and her muscles clenched in response. A low groan escaped her lips as the other woman's tongue danced around her sensitive belly button. "Cat," she whispered heatedly. "If you keep doing that I'm going to fall."

Catherine pulled away reluctantly and looked up at Sara with an evil smile. "I'll remember that," she said.

"You do that," Sara replied but closed her mouth when Catherine started unbuttoning her jeans.

"Cat got your tongue?" Catherine joked.

Sara felt sure there was a joke in there, and if she'd been feeling herself she'd have made it. In her current state all she could manage was another low groan.

Catherine felt her face flush with sudden heat and busied herself unzipping Sara's jeans. The sound reverberated unnaturally in the silence of the room. Catherine resumed her attention to Sara's middle but had the freedom to go lower now Sara's jeans were partially undone. When her lips touched the waistband of Sara's underwear she felt a full body shudder pass through the other woman.

"Cat," Sara breathed. "I don't think I can stand much longer." Her legs were trembling nearly as much as her hands.

Catherine ran her hands down Sara's denim clad thighs and smiled wickedly. "Take your top off," she ordered gently. Sara looked down into Catherine's sparkling blue eyes, frowning slightly. The request seemed to take a long time to get from her ears to her brain. After a few moments the tank top was pulled over her head and thrown away, landing somewhere on the other side of the room, forgotten.

"Mmm," Catherine whispered. "I love that top on you but I think I like it better off."

Sara closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on breathing.

Catherine leaned down and gently unlaced Sara's boots. Sara wasn't sure she had the co-ordination to take them off but, somehow, she found herself barefoot.

Catherine's hands slid down Sara's denim covered legs, pulling the heavy fabric along with them. She bestowed a gentle kiss on every inch of flesh that was revealed until Sara's jeans lay pooled at her ankles and she stepped out of them. Catherine smiled. "White cotton underwear," she murmured. "That's sweet."

Sara flushed. "Well, I wasn't expecting anyone to see them," she explained.

"Don't be embarrassed," Catherine replied. She stood up quickly and captured Sara's lips between her own. They kissed slowly, their tongues performing a complicated dance together. "God, you're amazing," Catherine managed to say as they parted, tightening her arms round the taller woman's shoulders. Sara looked down and made no reply. "You are," Catherine insisted.

When Sara remained silent Catherine leaned down and kissed her shoulder, then traced her fingers over the curve of her spine, eventually finding the clasp of her bra. With a smile she gently pulled it over her arms and discarded it. "You are beautiful," she whispered, enunciating each word carefully. She took a step back and looked Sara up and down.

"Cat," Sara whispered, crossing her arms bashfully over her chest.

Catherine gently placed her index finger on Sara's lips, shushing her. Keeping their eyes locked she let that finger trail from her lips down to her chin, to her throat, to the hollow at her clavicle, between her breasts, over her belly and finally to the waistband of her underwear. With a few gentle tugs this last piece of flimsy cotton was removed and Sara stood before her, naked and beautiful. A shiver ran through the brunette from head to toe.

"What's wrong?" Catherine asked gently.

Sara hesitated briefly, then shook her head. "Nothing," she said. "You're just too far away."

Smiling, Catherine took a step forward and twined her fingers with Sara's as she lightly pressed their lips together. She took another step forward, and another, until Sara's knees were touching the edge of the bed. Taking the hint Sara allowed herself to be laid down and Catherine followed her, straddling her hips.

"Catherine," Sara breathed as she looked up at her, then lost the power of speech when Catherine lifted her tank top over her head and threw it over to join Sara's somewhere in the corner of the room. "God," Sara whispered.

"No," Catherine teased gently. "It's just me."

Sara's eyes were dark and serious as she shook her head. "He must have made you with his own two hands," she murmured.

For a long moment Catherine's movements stilled and she fell silent. When Sara's words sunk into her overheated brain she felt tears begin to pool in her eyes. "I love you," she whispered.

Sara opened her mouth to respond but before a sound could escape her lips she found them occupied by a rough, almost bruising kiss. The force of it was pushing her head back into the pillow, pinning her in place. Catherine's tongue traced over Sara's lips and Sara opened her mouth reflexively to allow her entrance. Catherine let out a low groan as their tongues tangled together. She trailed her fingers through Sara's hair, drinking in the small movements the other woman made against her body and the laboured sound of her breathing.

Sara was dazed. She felt like she was lost in an unfamiliar and hostile sea, and Catherine was the only thing keeping her head above water. She clung on tighter to her support, her lifeline...her lover.

Her lover.

_ God, we're really doing this _ , she thought giddily.  _ We're really going to... _

Before the thought could take proper form the last shred of her coherence was lost in a wave of pure arousal as Catherine's hands flit over her taut stomach muscles. Before Sara had a chance to react those hands were on the move again, edging upwards to cup her breasts. Sara groaned low in her throat. She was as high as she'd ever been, positively drunk with sensation. A little voice was pleading with her for sanity, almost drowned out by the rush of pure animal desire she felt in Catherine's arms. This was something familiar at last, something she could lie back and lose herself in.

Suddenly the little voice turned into a scream and she found herself pushing Catherine away roughly, her breath coming in short sharp sobs..

"Sara?" Catherine sounded almost scared and she didn't blame her. She wanted to say something but suddenly the words wouldn't come. "Oh God...okay baby, just try to breathe."

It was only then that Sara realised she was shaking and crying and hyperventilating all at once, verging on hysteria. Catherine's hands smoothed her hair back from her face.

"Just concentrate on my voice," she soothed. "It's all right. Everything's all right."

Gradually Sara began to calm down, though her breath was still coming in deep shattering sobs. "I'm sorry," she said, covering her eyes with her forearm.

"God baby, don't be sorry," Catherine gasped, horrified. "Don't be sorry." Soft lips pressed against her flushed forehead.

"I-" Sara paused, feeling her throat constrict. "It was just too much," she continued several moments later.

Catherine blinked back tears of her own. "Me?" she asked in a small voice.

Sara shook her head quickly. "Me," she said. "My whole fucked up life." The distant cousin of a laugh bubbled up in her throat. "Something snapped. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I felt like I was out of control and...and out of my depth."

Horrified comprehension dawned on Catherine's face. "You mean like when you're drinking."

Sara uncovered her eyes and nodded slowly.

Catherine felt a wave of anguish pass through her. "I'm so sorry," she breathed, burying her face in Sara's neck so she wouldn't have to look her in the eye.

She had fucked up badly. She'd wanted to claim Sara, to leave a mark on her. She'd wanted to take every one of the brunette's niggling little doubts and drown them in a wave of love and sex. And in doing that she'd pushed too hard, too fast. Too soon. And she'd hurt the last person in the world she wanted to feel pain.

"Cat-" Sara whispered, but Catherine cut her off.

"I'm so sorry, baby," she said tightly. "It's all my fault."

"What? Cat, no-"

"It is," Catherine insisted. "I thought I could make everything better. I thought you just needed me to love you and you'd be fine, just like that. But all I do is make things worse."

Sara shook her head as she slipped her arms round Catherine's narrow shoulders. "I do need you to love me," she whispered. "More than anything." She paused. "But we need to go a little slower. When we make love I want it to be everything you've ever dreamed of. But I...I don't think I can be that person for you right now."

Sara's hands ran in slow circles over her back and Catherine found herself relaxing. "Slow," she said softly. "Sounds good."

They lay together in silence for a few minutes more, letting their minds and bodies calm down. Eventually Catherine raised herself up on her elbows.

"God, we look ridiculous," she muttered.

Sara looked around the room. Clothes were strewn haphazardly everywhere but while she was completely naked Catherine was missing only her top. Sara found herself giggling, and the sound broke the tension. "Yeah, we do, don't we?" Catherine rolled her eyes and climbed off the bed, making her way to a chest of drawers. She threw Sara an oversized T-shirt.

"We could just sleep," she said softly. "If you want."

Sara nodded with a gentle smile. "I think that's slow enough."

Ten minutes later, faces washed, teeth brushed, sleepwear on, the two women slipped under the covers. Sara lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling.

"Cat?" she murmured sleepily.

"Yes?"

"Don't I get a goodnight kiss?"

"Are you sure? I don't want to rush you, or upset you-"

"Cat," Sara interrupted. "Please kiss me."

Catherine smiled widely as she flipped over onto her side, leaning over the brunette. Their lips tangled together sweetly, careful not to go too far.

When they parted Sara gazed up at Catherine sleepily through her eyelashes. A curtain of red-blonde hair had fallen down around her face, framing flushed cheeks, shining eyes and smiling lips. And Sara knew, in a moment of absolute clarity, that she was in love.

She sighed softly, and tilted her head up to press their lips together in another achingly tender kiss.

Catherine smiled. "Go to sleep, my Sara," she murmured, dropping her head to the younger woman's shoulder.

"Mmm," Sara responded, sliding her arms round Catherine's shoulders. Their curves moulded together perfectly, like they were two pieces of a jigsaw, always meant to be beside one another.

"G'night," she whispered, dropping a kiss into baby soft strawberry blonde hair. Deep, regular breathing was her only response. Catherine was already asleep.

* * * * *

Sara slipped quietly out of Catherine's arms sometime in the early afternoon. Catherine didn't wake up, just curled herself around the warm spot Sara's body had left. Sara had to hunt around a little for her clothes - Catherine hadn't exactly thought to fold and sort them neatly when she was tearing them off her body that morning. She pulled on her jeans and wandered blearily to the kitchen, in search of coffee.

Actually making the coffee turned out to be rather hazardous as she was struck down by another bout of trembling just as the water boiled. She clenched her hands into fists as she leaned on the counter. There was no use trying to pretend this was anything but detox. Her last drink was round about seven am on Saturday morning. She looked at the clock blinking away on the microwave. That made it fifty-five hours since her last taste of alcohol, and she was definitely feeling it.

She'd tried to convince herself the periodic shakes and headaches and bouts of nausea were due to tiredness or stress or nervousness at being with Catherine. But all her excuses were gone and she still felt like hell.

Deciding to forego the coffee for the moment she pulled open the fridge door. Orange juice. That was safe enough.

She was concentrating so hard on unscrewing the cap on the juice bottle that she nearly didn't notice the six-pack lurking at the back of the fridge. When she did notice it she was hard pressed to focus on anything else.

Just the sight of a can of beer was almost enough to double her over with desire. Okay, it was Bud-Lite which she wouldn't normally touch with a ten foot pole but it hardly mattered. It was beer and it was exactly what her shaking hands wanted.

The fridge door swung closed with unexpected force and it took Sara a moment to realise that she had slammed it herself.

"Get a fucking grip, Sidle," she murmured, clenching her hands into fists. "Catherine's in the bedroom sleeping. You're not going to drink in her house. You're not."

She muttered the last two words over and over again as she walked through to the living room and threw herself down on the couch. With a groan she covered her face with one of the scatter cushions.

How was she going to handle this when Catherine wasn't around? Even now she could practically taste the beer on her tongue and she wasn't sure she'd be able to resist when she was alone in her apartment.

The next thing she knew the cushion was on the other side of the room. She'd thrown it with all the strength she could muster and it had knocked one of Catherine's photographs off the mantelpiece. "Shit," Sara mumbled as she got up to retrieve it. She prayed the glass hadn't broken.

Thankfully the photograph had fallen onto the cushion and was undamaged. It was a picture of Catherine and Lindsey in what looked like Sunset Park. Lindsey had her arms wrapped round her mother's neck and they were both smiling and laughing at the camera lens. Sara ran her fingers gently over the glass.

She'd promised Nancy she wouldn't disrupt Lindsey's life, but was that a promise she could keep? Barely two days after her last drink and she was tempted already. Lindsey deserved better than to have yet another hopeless drunk in her life. And so did Catherine.

Sara sighed as she replaced the picture. There was only one thing she could do.

* * * * *

When Catherine woke up it took her a few moments to realise she was alone.

"Sara?" she called blearily. "Baby? Where are you?"

There was no reply. Catherine rolled over slowly and groaned when she discovered that Sara's side of the bed was cold. She reached blindly for Sara's pillow and buried her face in it, inhaling deeply. Sara's scent was plastered all over the bedclothes. A hint of citrus with a backdrop of cigarette smoke that hadn't quite dissipated yet. Catherine groaned low in her throat. Waking up to Sara's scent was all well and good but she'd have preferred to have something a little more solid. Where the hell was Sara?

She sat up slowly, blinking the sleep from her eyes, and looked around the room. Sara's clothes were gone. Sara was gone and her clothes were gone. Catherine's face paled. "Oh shit," she murmured. "Shit, shit, shit!"

She ran her hands through her hair roughly, suddenly feeling completely awake. She must have scared Sara off. What other explanation could there possibly be? God, she'd practically thrown herself at the poor woman.

Catherine felt the beginnings of tears pricking behind her eyelids but she blinked them away furiously. She wasn't going to give up that easily. She wasn't entirely sure what she was going to do but it sure as hell didn't involve lying in bed moping. That wasn't Catherine Willows' style at all.

With a deep sigh she forced herself to get up and quickly located a pair of sweats. She didn't bother to get dressed properly - for the moment, at least, she was only going as far as the phone.

It wasn't until she was halfway down the stairs that she heard the voice, low and husky, unmistakably Sara. Catherine frowned. Who the hell could she be talking to?

"Yeah," she was saying. "Uhm...well I work nights, so...yeah, early evening downtown sounds good."

Catherine stood in the living room doorway, watching Sara talk into the phone. Sara had her back to the door and hadn't seen her. Catherine smiled slightly as Sara twirled her curls nervously around her finger as she talked. Then Sara surprised her. She laughed.

"No way?" she said into the phone. "Do people really try that?" Sara let out another low chuckle. "Well don't worry," she said. "I won't try to use my chips in the casinos."

With a sharp intake of breath Catherine brought a hand up to cover her mouth. A feeling of fierce pride and even fiercer love washed over her and she wanted nothing more than to rush over to Sara and hug her till she could barely breathe. But she had learned her lesson about not pushing the other woman too hard so she restrained herself, with effort.

Sara finished up her phone call and replaced the receiver in its cradle. But she made to move to get up from the sofa. After a few long moments Catherine yawned to announce her presence and sauntered into the room. Sara looked up a little guiltily.

"Hey, Cath," she said.

"Hey sweetie," Catherine replied, leaning against the arm of the sofa and draping her arm round Sara's shoulders. A smile jumped to her lips when Sara's hand immediately reached up to grasp hers.

"You been awake long?" Sara asked.

Catherine shook her head. "No," she replied. Her voice lowered a little. "The bed was too cold without you."

A light pink flush crept over Sara's cheeks. "I uh...guess I'd better fix that then," she said. Catherine nodded as she leaned down and pressed her smiling lips to Sara's briefly.

"Come on," she said, tugging on Sara's hand. "You'll need a few more hours sleep. I think Lindsey's planning to exhaust you tonight."

"Lucky it's my night off then," Sara replied with a smirk.

"Yes, it is," Catherine replied. She gave Sara's hand another gentle pull. "Come on, baby."

Sara let Catherine's hand slip from her grasp. "You go on," she said. "I'll be up in a minute. I'm just going to get a drink." Her face paled as she realised what she'd said. "I mean-" she spluttered but Catherine hushed her with a finger over her lips.

"I know what you meant, Sara," she said softly. She stretched as she stood and headed for the stairs. "Don't be too long," she called over her shoulder.

* * * * *

Sara remained sitting on the sofa when Catherine had gone, looking over at the picture of Lindsey and Catherine on the mantelpiece. After a few minutes she got up and walked over to it.

"Well, I did it," she said to Catherine and Lindsey's frozen smiles. She picked up the photo and traced her fingers over the glass, exhaling softly. "I don't know if it'll help - I hope it will." She took a deep breath. "I know you both deserve better than me...that's why I'm going to try my best to be better from now on." A self deprecating laugh rose in her throat as she realised she was talking to a photograph when the real thing was just upstairs. For some reason she couldn't seem to stop herself from staring at the picture, and when she looked up again she realised that fifteen minutes had passed.

She wasn't sure exactly how long she'd had the card in her purse. She remembered she'd found it along with her receipt when she'd got home from one of her frequent trips to the liquor store. A card inviting her to seek help and come along to one of her local AA meetings. She remembered cursing the smart ass clerk at the store. She'd started going elsewhere after that but for some reason she'd kept the card. Maybe she'd subconsciously known she had a problem even then - although it had taken this long to admit it.

With a soft sight Sara replaced the photograph and wandered through to the kitchen. She decided that water was the safest option this time. Normally she wouldn't drink tap water but she still wanted to steer clear of the fridge and the six little temptations lying within.

Catherine was asleep when she finally made her way back upstairs. Sara took a moment just to watch her before quietly undressing and slipping in behind her. She pressed a kiss between Catherine's shoulder blades and slipped an arm round her waist.

"Hey, Cat," she whispered. "Sorry I was so long." Sara's fingers stroked gently over Catherine's stomach as she spoke.

"I've got something to tell you when you wake up," she continued. "I made a few calls earlier. I figured it was time I got my act together, you know? Anyway...I've taken some more time off work - I think I nearly gave Grissom a heart attack." She took a deep breath. "And I've arranged to go to a meeting on Friday. I don't know if it'll help but I have to try." She opened her mouth as if to say more but then thought better of it. "Well," she said. "We'll talk about it later." Sara pulled Catherine a little closer to her and leaned over so she could kiss her cheek. "Thank you," she whispered.

With a gentle sigh she leaned back against the mattress, waiting for sleep to take over. After a moment, unseen by Sara, Catherine opened her eyes. "You're welcome," she mouthed silently, and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go - one of the few very old stories of mine I wouldn't like to completely disown. This was my first experience of characters taking over and changing the direction of a story - I had completely intended them to have sex at the end, but they decided it wasn't right. Women, eh?


End file.
